


My Sweet Darling

by CuteHeartz



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American History, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Hetalia Kink Meme, Historical Accuracy, Historical Hetalia, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of alcohol and drugs, Romance, Sex, Sexual themes later, Violence, sexual affairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 90,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4353719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteHeartz/pseuds/CuteHeartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World War 2 is over, and the Cold War is creeping over Alfred's shoulders. In the midst of crisis, Alfred falls in love with Marilyn Monroe, the beautiful American actress. But the more Alfred tries to be with her, the deadlier this test seems to become. And after every fight, scandal, affair, romance and tragedy is played out, Alfred is left with a very different understanding of the life and people he thought he knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions and Interests

 

1946

  
Alfred knew from the moment he saw her that she was something special.

He had been walking around New York when he suddenly came across loud cheering. The bright sun and the warm breeze made him feel like taking a small break from everything and just enjoying the sounds of the city. From the smell of vendors selling burgers and hot dogs to the sound of people talking and cars speeding by. To most people, the scene was typical and uninteresting, but to him it made the city sound _alive._ And he relished the feeling. It was enginuity and promise in the air; the American Dream was alive and well. His peaceful walk surrounded by everything typical was suddenly interrupted by something most  _un_ -typical. He figured that it was another celebration that marked the end of the God-awful World War 2. Such celebrations had been occurring quite regualry, although things were starting to calm down a bit and life seemed to become normal. However, as he grew closer, he realized that it was not a celebration. Rather, it was a large crowd of adoring fans and photographers.

 _'Ah, must be a celebrity.'_ Alfred mused. He decided that he'd take a look at who everyone was fawning over, seeing as he had nothing better to do anyway. He also had the habit of exploring things that were new and exciting. He looked up at the building and noticed that whoever it was was exiting a movie theater. The fans and photographers must have mobbed the person as soon as they walked out the door.

Before Alfred even had time to get a good look at the celebrity, a figure burst from the crowd in a rush, knocking him to the floor, the air being forced from his lungs in the process.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" The voice was barely heard over the loud cheering, but Alfred recalled the very familiar voice. He found himself looking into the bright blue eyes of Marilyn Monroe, only inches from his own. She looked extremely embarrassed and struggled to get up.  
"M-My apologies, sir. I was in a rush to leave and I musn't have seen you! Are you okay?" She asked, holding out her hand when she finally got back on her feet. Alfred reached out and grabbed it, pulling back onto his own feet. He took that time to get a good look at her.

The woman had recently had her hair dyed blonde, which nearly matched his own hair color. Her curls tapered around her neck, accentuating her delicate features perfectly. Her skin was clear and looked smooth. She had lovely plump lips that shone a dark red, and her light blue eyes were framed by long lashes and arched eyebrows. Her beauty mark next to her mouth completed her look. She was wearing a black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the skirt of the dress ending at her knees, with black heels to match. Diamond earrings dangled from her ears.

He had never seen a woman look so perfect. And he was reminded of a lot of Hollywood stars he had seen on the big screen throughout the years.

"Hello? Are you okay, mister?" The woman asked softly, sounding concerned. Alfred felt himself smiling, showing off his bright Hollywood smile that all of the girls seemed to like. It worked; Marilyn's cheeks were dusted with crimson and she gave him a bigger smile, showing off her glamorous white teeth.  
"Yeah, I'm perfectly alright! Don't worry!" By now, the crowd had grown larger. A few police had begun to show up, and were now urging Marilyn towards the safety of her vehicle, away from the massive crowd of fans.

"I-I'm sorry, but I have to go! I hope to see you around sometime!" Marilyn called as she was ushered away. Before Alfred could call back, she had disappeared from view. Alfred felt himself be pushed backward as the fans tried to follow the star. Marilyn quickly got into her car at the curb of the sidewalk and sped away from the large crowd. By the time the crowd had dissipated, Alfred found himself back on the cold ground with tousled hair and dusty clothes.

He remembered her words in his head.

_'I hope to see you around sometime!'_

Alfred felt himself smile. He found himself hoping the same thing despite himself. A girl like that must never have the time for someone so seemingly ordinary. She most likely had a long list of boyfriends to go through before she'd even bat an eyelash at him. 

He couldn't understand why this girl seemed so different than the others, but he knew that whatever it was, he was determined to see more of it. Even if all the odds were stacked up against him. Besides, he was used to having no odds in his favor. It was just what made him himself.

 


	2. Fire and Friendship

 

 

 

1947

  
Alfred grumbled in frustration as he walked from the World Conference building. The nations of the world had just finished another one of their typical meetings to try and "solve the world's problems." Again, it ended in failure. No surprise there.  
Alfred was tired of everyone throwing away his ideas. They never even gave him a chance! With his exceptional economy, he could definitely build some sort of machine to help teleport resources from other countries to nations who were still suffering from the War!  
Tired and wanting something to eat to settle his nerves, Alfred quickly walks to a diner not too far from the world conference building. The place always seemed to relax him. He'd been going there since the 20's, and it rarely changed. He would chat with other patrons and employees about world situations and also gossip about things that the government is up to. He knew all about that, of course, but he liked to hear the opinion of his people.

Alfred entered the diner and was hit with the warm scent of Apple pie and other treats that the place was famous for. He saw a familiar young waitress named Abigail and waved to her. She smiled brightly at him and waved him over to where she was cleaning a table.

"Here you go, Al! I was just finishing up this table so you can go ahead and take it!" She said. Alfred smiled and thanked her before sitting down. The two had known each other for a few months, starting when she began working at the diner and the two had become fast friends. She was mixed race, too, so he was always quick to sympathize with her and the discrimination she faced in the city. She was of college age, and was living alone and in need of money to support herself. Alfred looked over her as if checking if the stress had gotten to her again like many times before. She had dark brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail and hazel eyes. She had a plain blue employee dress and a white apron that was smudged with filthiness from the day. But otherwise, she seemed to be in pretty high spirits tonight, thankfully.

"What would you like? I'm guessing the usual?" She asked, taking out her notepad and scribbling down on it. Alfred nodded tiredly. Abigail gave him a soft look. "Another stressful day, I see. Don't worry now! Some coffee will cheer you up!" She promised before heading off to the kitchen with her order.

Alfred sighed and waited quietly, glancing around the familiar setting. His booth was in the far right corner, giving him full view of the afternoon sky from two sides. The sky was painted a mix of purple and pink, signaling the coming darkness. As he studied the sunset, a figure slowly approached his table undetected.  
"Hello?"  
Alfred's eyes widened as he heard a familiar feminine voice from right behind him. He whirled around to gape at Marilyn Monroe. She stood there rather awkwardly. Now, she was dressed in more regular clothing. She had on a light blue dress with multicolored flowers on it that fit smugly around her. A thin brown belt accentuated her waist. She had simple white slippers and a small purse. A white hat sat atop her head, hiding her identity and most of her curly hair. Her ears were also missing their expensive jeweled earrings.

She smiled lightly. "May I sit with you? You seem to be in need of company." Alfred could only nod, as he was stunned into silence. He felt his cheeks turn red as the woman went and sat across from him, looking at him intently.

"I noticed you as I was walking by the diner and I couldn't help but drop by. I wanted to apologize again for running into you. I.. I hope you don't mind." She said. Alfred's shock began to fade away, and he gave her a bright smile. "It's alright! I could use some company, anyways." He said.  
"You seem stressed out," Marilyn observed. "Are you alright?" Alfred nodded quickly. "Yeah, it's just.. Well.. It's kinda hard to explain." Alfred said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand.  
Marilyn gave him a look. "How so?" She asked. Alfred sighed. "Well, it involves some of... Uh, my.. Coworkers." He said slowly. Marilyn nodded in understanding. "Oh! Coworkers, huh?" She sighed in exasperation. "I understand you there. They can be frustrating to work with, right?" Alfred nodded rapidly once more. "Yeah! Like, they always shoot down my epic ideas! It's totally uncool!" He said.

Marilyn giggled. "I acted on the set of this one picture, and I swear it was like I was invisible! Every actress and actor from the stars to the director acted as though they were King or Queen of the world! I was relieved when we finally finished production." _'Ah, so she_ is  _an actress.'_ Alfred thought. She did remind him of a lot of other previous actresses, so he wasnt too surprised to hear this. Alfred and Marilyn chatted for a while before Abigail came back with a large tray.  
"Here you go! Freshly cooked just for y- Oh!" She stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Marilyn. She smiled, shocked and embarrassed. "I-I'm Sorry, ma'am. I had no idea you would be joining." She said as she set down Alfred's meal. It was a warm apple pie with a side of ice cream. Hot coffee was also provided.  
"It's quite alright, dear. I didn't expect to join either." Marilyn said humorously. Abigail gave her a large smile. "Well it's an honor to be able to talk with you, Miss Monroe! Ive seen your pictures around here, and im proud to say that I admire your work! Would you like anything?" She asked. Marilyn thought for a moment. "Do you have mint tea?" She asked. Abigail nodded. "Then I would like that." She said. "Alright, then. I'll be right back!" Abigail squeaked before rushing off.

The two continued to chat about politics and other world news for a long period of time. Eventually, Marilyn was brought her steaming tea.  
"You should really try the food, Miss Monroe. It's famous around these parts!" Alfred said happily. Marilyn smiled. "Please, dear. Call me Marilyn." Alfred reciprocated. "Well, Marilyn, you can call me Alfred. Alfred F Jones!" Marilyn gave him an amused look. "What does the F mean?" There was silence. "Hmm, I.. Don't know. It really doesn't mean anything, to be honest." Alfred said with a thoughtful expression.

"Anyways, you should really try the pie at least. I bet you'll love it! Would you care to share mine?" Alfred asked, blushing lightly after realizing how strange it sounded. Marilyn looked a little shocked, too. "R-Really?" Alfred nodded. After a moment of consideration, she agreed to try it. Alfred gave her another fork and she took off a piece of the pie, looking it over a bit before plopping it into her mouth.

Alfred looked at her in excitement as she tasted the pastry. After a moment, she smiled, eyes shining with an almost childlike happiness. "It.. It tastes great!" Alfred laughed. "Told ya!" He said. Marilyn smiled bigger. "I guess this diner really is famous for it's pies!" Alfred nodded. "Yeah! It is!"

For the next half hour, they shared the pie and ice cream and talked happily about random topics. Alfred soon couldn't deny that he felt an attraction to Marilyn. They seemed to really understand each other. He could tell that she was a dynamic personality, and was always a great friend to her peers and family.

When it came time to leave, Alfred and Marilyn swapped telephone numbers and promised to call each other soon. After a swift goodbye, Alfred turned and began his walk to his house, which wasn't too far away. He was in much brighter spirits than when he had first arrived.

Things had gone seemingly perfect, but he never noticed that he was being watched by a certain few nations who couldn't ever keep their mouths shut...


	3. Divisions and Divertion

 

1948

The months seemed to fly by for Alfred. He'd spent the rest of 1947 in the White House, trying to settle down after the chaos of World War 2. His boss, Harry S. Truman, was pretty sensible. Hopefully he could continue to calm down the nation and continue to form strong alliances with other nations.

However, he couldn't deny the feeling of something.... Happening. He couldn't identify exactly what it was, but he knew it had something to do with the USSR. The cold bastard had been pestering his nation since the end of the War. It started in 1947, although Alfred hadn't given it too much thought then, as he believed it would die down. But he was wrong.

Tensions were rising; and fast. People had already given this new conflict a name: the Cold War. "Cold" because it was a war of words. Alfred grit his teeth in fury. The entire world was hoping that it would _remain_ only a war of words, but with the way things were looking, he wouldn't be surprised if a real war broke out within a year. They are the only two superpowers remaining; nobody could stand in their way if war came, and the already-war torn nations would suffer even more.

Alfred was lurched from these thoughts by the ring of the telephone that was sitting on his desk. Currently, he was sitting in his office in his house. He'd meant to get his paperwork done for his boss tomorrow, but he'd become lost in his thoughts and had only finished a few pages so far.

Alfred picked up the telephone, placing it to his ear. "Hello?" He asked. "Hello, Alfred." It was Marilyn. He smiled. He and Marilyn had spent a lot of time calling eachother recently. They'd also met up one or two times since she joined him at the café, but it was nothing major. They mostly walked around a local park and talked about their plans for the future and their worries about this Cold War. Her presence really helped settle his nerves. He hoped it would continue to be that way.

"Hey, Marilyn! What's up?" Alfred asked cheerily. He heard a sigh on the other line. "I.. I apologize for calling so randomly, but I just needed someone to talk to." She explained. Now Alfred was confused. "Oh, well what happened?" He asked her.

She was quiet. Eventually, she spoke again. "You know how I made a contract with Columbia Pictures a few months ago?" "Yeah, why?" Alfred inquired. "Well, it didn't turn out so well. They dropped me yesterday." She said glumly. Alfred felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. She had been showing much potential in her acting career recently. Not to mention the gorgeous photo shoots being published.

"Oh.. I'm sorry to hear about that." Marilyn sighed once more. An awkward silence filled the line. "...H-How about I.. Come over sometime?" Alfred offered, a bit sheepish. He'd never been to the girl's residence. Marilyn seemed just as surprised. "R-Really?" She asked in disbelief. "T-That is.. If you want me to!" Alfred quickly added, chuckling nervously. Marilyn seemed to contemplate the offer.

"You know, I would love to have you over.." She decided, almost shyly. Alfred felt his cheeks turn red. "Well, o-okay then. Could I come over later today?" Alfred asked. Marilyn agreed, and gave Alfred the information he needed to get to her place of residence. "Great! I'll be over in about two hours, then." Alfred said. Marilyn said okay before the two exchanged goodbyes and Alfred hung up.

Silence filled the room as Alfred sat there, not really knowing what to do to pass the time. This silence was interrupted by the opening of the office door not long after the call ended. Alfred jumped in surprise, whirling around to face the new presence.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." A teenage girl said. She was wearing a simple blue and white plaid dress that went down to her knees and went up to her neckline with matching blue flats. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Her brown eyes held a hint of sadness and shock in them.

It didn't take long for Alfred to understand what happened: the girl had overheard his conversation with Marilyn. "You really like that girl... Don't you? I can tell you do. You've been going to meet up with her pretty often, and you're always calling her, too." The girl said quietly. Alfred felt guilt weave his way into his chest. He knew this topic wasn't an easy one.

"Virginia..." Was all he could say. The girl looked away from him. His beloved states. They meant the world to him. But they were also the biggest secret in American History. _World_ history, even. Fore while the people knew nothing of the nations, the nations knew nothing of the states. Nobody but him and Canada and their bosses knew about their existence as personifications. It was for the better; if another nation found out about them, they could try to harm them. They would use them against him. And with the increasing tentions with the USSR, he was especially adamant that they remain safe.

"We don't want anyone else, Alfred. It's only going to cause us more pain." She said, again, quietly. The guilt was now filling Alfred's chest. "Virginia, why can't you just give this another chance?" He asked. Virginia clenched her fists in sudden anger. She looked at Alfred with fiery eyes. "So you _DO_ like her!" She accused. Alfred looked to the side. "What's so wrong with that?" He asked, almost to himself. "You know what's wrong with that! Don't you remember what happened the last time this happened!? Why must you be so dull?" She said, glaring at Alfred.

Annoyed, Alfred glared back. "I know what happened, Virginia! But things are different now! Why must _YOU_ be so unwilling to start over?" He growled back. Tears threatened to fall from Virginia's eyes. "Because we're just going to lose her! Just like last time!" She said shakily, before turning and running from the room.

"Virginia!" Alfred called after her. But it was too late, the office door had slammed closed, leaving Alfred once more in silence.


	4. Plans and Protests

 

1948

As Virginia ran from her father's office, she felt her tears slide down her cheeks. She didn't stop, even after hearing Alfred call out to her. Weeping, the teenage girl rushed down the long hallway and up the large set of mahogany stairs. Once on the second floor, she weaved her way past other hallways and rooms until she found the door she was looking for. Not all of the 48 states were at the house currently, so luckily her argument with Alfred wouldn't cause too much drama.

Quickly, Virginia knocked on the door of the room. She immeiately heard the sound of someone getting up and moving towards the door in a fast pace. As she tried to calm her sniveling, the door was thrown open, revealing the face of another teenager about her age with unruly dark brown hair. His eyes were the same brown as Virginia's. He was dressed in a casual t-shirt and sweatpants.

The boy took one look at Virginia before practically dragging her in the room and closing the door.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" The boy asked his sister softly as the two sat on the bed. "W-West... It's awful!" Virginia cried. West Virginia was Virginia's closest friend. The two hadn't gotten off to a great start when West Virginia seceded, but after the Civil War, they managed to become almost inseparable.

"Is it Tennesee? Is he putting skunks in your closet again? I shoulda' gotten that new gun when I had the chance!" West Virginia grumbled angrily. Virginia shook her head. "No, West... It's.. It's Dad." She said. West gave her a confused look. "Dad? What's pops done that's made you so upset?" He asked her.

Virginia wiped her eyes. "It's.. He.. Well, I think he likes another girl.." She admitted quietly. West's eyes widened in disbelief. "A girl..? But... What about.." He trailed off. Virginia shrugged. "I don't know. He told me that I should try starting over after what happened last time with.. W-with mom.." She informed.

West gasped. "But-But we can't just 'start over' and forget about mom! She was the only mom that we've ever known!" He said. Virginia nodded. "I know.. What should we do?" She asked, desperately.

The boy was silent as he thought of what could be done. Finally, he looked up at her. "Maybe... Maybe I can try talking to him. Maybe I can knock some sense into him?" He offered. Virginia didn't think the plan was the best that could've been made, but in her desperation, she agreed. After all, West was great at persuasion. He managed to convince a whole people to become a seperate state. West smiled determinedly. "Alright. Stay here." Virginia nodded and sat on West's bed while the other teen hurried downstairs towards the office.

In the silence, Virginia peered around the familiar setting. Next to the door was a large and crowded double-door closet. A The bed was sitting opposite to the closet. It had a football bedspread and various other random pillows and objects. The bed was a mess (Why must the guys be so messy!?) and there were still a few items laying on the ground. A TV was attached to the wall in front of the bed, and a large wooden dresser sat below it. The dresser was cluttered with old awards and photos and other junk. West had been scolded many times for not keeping his room neat, but he never seemed to listen. 

After a few minutes, Virginia sighed and lay down on the bed, staring at the plain white ceiling and waiting for West to come back. She didnt need to wait long. The silence was suddenly interrupted when West barged back into the room, panting heavily. Virginia leapt up from her relaxed position and gave him a worried look. "West! What are you doing? I thought you were going to talk to dad!" She said. West nodded quickly. "I was gonna, but he's gone!" Virginia's eyes widened. He must have alrady left to go to that girl's house.

Before Virginia could say anything, the door opened again, revealing the face of another teenage girl. This girl had a fair tan and wavy blonde hair that was tied back in a messy ponytail. She had on a dark blue dress with a flowing skirt that traveled to her knees. A black belt was strapped tightly around her waist and she had small black heels and a grey kitten hairclip attached to the side of her face. She had light blue eyes and recently polished pink nails.

"Hey guys! What's goin' on? I saw you two running around like the world was ending or somethin'." She said with complete curiosity. Virginia refrained from groaning. Her sister was always wanting to get in on the action, so to speak. But now wasnt the time for any of her antics.

"Carrie, could you pl-" Carrie interrupted her with a raised hand. "No way, Ginny! You always leave everyone in the dark with your crazy adventures and whatnot! Im joinin' in on it this time!" She said, folding her arms to her chest in stubbornness and sending Virginia a cold look. Virginia matched her glare. Carrie, also known as California, was very stubborn when she didn't get her way.

Realizing she had no choice, Virginia sighed. "Fine. Just, dont tell anyone else!" California's eyes lit up! "Yay! Okay, what are we going to do?"


	5. Comforting Condolences

 

1948

Alfred sighed as he locked the front door to his house. He'd felt bad about leaving before speaking to Virginia, but he would've run late to Marilyn's place if he didn't hurry. Plus, he figured, it would give her time to calm down. He only wanted the best for his daughter, of course. He sighed again as he walked down the path towards his new car.

Promising himself to a conversation with Virginia later, he got into the drivers seat and started up the car. It would take a little while to reach Marilyn's house, so he'd have a little time to think to himself about the increasingly frustrating situation he'd gotten himself in. First he had to deal with a stupid war with the USSR, and now this? Alfred wondered if God or whatever higher power that exists had it out for him or something.

Thoughts of the war with the USSR crept back into his mind. USSR, or Ivan, was a formidable opponent. They were ended up the only two on the world stage after the end of World War 2. To be honest, Alfred didn't even want to be as powerful as he was; his people held similar feelings. But due to his wealth and prosperity after the war, he'd been partly forced onto the world stage, forced to make decisions regarding the world. Alfred had felt so overwhelmed through it all. After the war, he'd expected to go back to normal. Back to his peaceful and prosperous life in isolationism. But then he suddenly had to be facing off with the only other superpower in the world.

Alfred didn't know what to make of this war. Obviously, he didn't want to lose. Losing would mean becoming Communist, which undermined everything his Founders had worked so hard to create. But on the other end of the spectrum, winning the war would be an entirely different ballgame. If America won, it would mean that the USSR would likely fall, leaving him the only world superpower, forced to make every decision regarding the world alone, with no guidance or help. The thought made Alfred shiver. How was he supposed to guide the world? What if he messed up? Would the world hate him? Attack his people? America was the most popular country so far. He didn't want to mess it up and endanger the lives of millions of Americans.

Alfred felt utterly helpless and alone. He had no experience in leading the world. His entire life, he had been isolationist. Now, he was suddenly being forced to make decisions on things he knew nothing about, but was expected to know or learn quickly.

Alfred was so consumed in his anxieties that he nearly ran into the bumper of a car that was sitting at a traffic light. Thankfully, he saw it out of the corner of his eye, but he still managed to cause quite a few honks from other pissed off drivers. He sighed. This was going to be more complicated than he thought.

Not much later, he reached Marilyn's residence at a nice hotel in the city. Finding an adequate parking space, he wandered over to the building entrance, admiring the planted roses that lined the pathway. Upon entering the building, he was shocked at how big it really was. The floor was a fine marble, and potted trees and other plants sat next to various tables and the front desk, which was made of dark mahogany. The building was constantly filled by the sounds of many patrons chattering and gossiping in the lobby and various other rooms connected to it.

"Alfred!" He heard a voice say, trying not to cause too much attention. His head whipped over to a woman who was sitting at a table not too far from where he was standing. She had on a black hat and sunglasses to mask her appearance, but Alfred could recognize her blonde curls and smile from anywhere.

He smiled big and walked over to Marilyn, who stood up to greet him. The two hugged welcomingly. "Hey! It's nice to see you again." Alfred said. Marilyn smiled up at him. "You too, buddy! Why don't we go up to my room instead of the crowded lobby?" She said. Alfred hoped his blush wasn't too evident, and he stuttered and chuckled nervously. "S-Sure, I guess! Whatever you think is best." He said. Marilyn smiled softly at him before leading him towards the staircase.


	6. Wine and Wonders

 

1948

"And then, Mr. Davidson walked in on us, and I swear his face turned redder than a tomato!"

Alfred had to refrain from choking on his wine as he laughed.

"O-Oh my God! Who knew you could be so evil!?" Alfred accused, doubling over in laughter. Marilyn giggled and took a sip of her wine.

"We were young and stupid! Could you blame us?" She defended, smiling largely. Ever since the two got back to Marilyn's suite, they got glasses of wine and settled down on the couch. Alfred tried to lighten the mood first since it would cheer her up. And from the way Marilyn was smiling, it greatly helped.

Eventually, their laughter died down and they were left in silence. Alfred took a breath. It was probably time to address the issue.

"..So, what happened with the agency?" He asked, trying to take things slow. Marilyn's smile faltered a bit, but she leaned back against the couch.

"I.. I'm not so sure myself. They just didn't satisfy my interests. They wouldn't take me seriously as an actress." She said, quietly.

America immediately knew what she meant. It was like that at every world meeting. Nobody would take his suggestions seriously, no matter how awesome they were!

He looked at her sympathetically. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know how you feel." She looked a little shocked at that. "R-Really? How?" She asked.

America stuttered. "U-Uhm, well, I work at this.. This company, and I guess, well.." He shrugged. Marilyn nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see! They ignore your suggestions and such?" Alfred smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Definitely! All the time!" Marilyn smiled. "W-Wow! I.. I never thought anyone would understand me.. Even my acting coach doesn't even understand most of my problems!" She said excitedly.

"Who's your coach?" Asked Alfred. Marilyn smiled, a smile which could only mean one thing. He had seen it many times before when he was hannging out with past friends at parties and bars, and noticed them giving a similar dreamy look to a group of particularly beautiful women. He'd heard stories about such looks from France as a child, when he was told about how amazing and beautiful love was, and how it was the greatest feeling in the world. 

Marilyn had a crush on this man.

Alfred was shocked. He didn't know she was interested in anyone. The thought made Alfred feel... Strange. How _should_ he feel about this kind of thing? All Alfred knew was that he wasn't sure he particularly liked this feeling, and it didn't want to feel it.

"His name is Fred. Fred Karger. He's very nice!" She said, almost bashfully. Alfred didn't smile, but he knew Marilyn really liked this Karger person, and he wanted to support her. He forced a smile on his face and added a forced chuckle for maximum effect.

"Well, I hope things work out for you two." Alfred said. Marilyn smiled warmly, almost gratefully, at him. "...Thank you. I haven't been told that before.." She said quietly. "Really?" Alfred wondered. Marilyn nodded her head.

Awkward silence filled the room. Then, a sigh. "I guess the industry just doesn't think I'm worth it." She said, looking away. "Hey, don't s-" Alfred was cut off.

"But I'm not going to let that stop me. I don't care who thinks what, there are thousands of girls out there dreaming of being a star. But I don't care, because I'm dreaming harder than all of them."

America was stunned into silence. He could feel the passion in her voice, the determined glint in her eyes. He felt pride swell his heart. Pride that one of his citizens could be so strong and willing. This time, America smiled genuinely.

"Of that, Marilyn, I have no doubt."

Marilyn sat up, and reached for the bottle of wine on the table.

"More wine, Mr. Jones?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I just want to say that in the next chapter, things will begin to heat up in this story! We shall see what Virginia and the others have planned, and trust me, there WILL be action. I want this story to be slow and progressive and get heated up more as the story goes along. So, there will be many parts to the story. The next chapter will be out soon!


	7. Attacks and Arrogance

 

1948

On the drive home, Alfred felt unusually relaxed. He hadn't felt so in peace since the Roaring 20's, when all of America seemed to be covered in glamor and new music and new fashion and new everything else. It was one of Alfred's favorite times, though it sadly didn't last, as the Great Depression slammed in the late 1920's, bringing America's happy and prosperous days down to dreary, grey skies filled with nothing but starvation and desperation.

But those days were over, and America was once again prosperous. Although there _is_ still the Cold War to worry about. Alfred was so relaxed, he almost forgot there even _was_ a war going on.

 

Marilyn turned out to be very different than Alfred had really expected. She hadn't been in any major movie roles so far, but so much potential oozed from her person that Alfred was sure she'd be popular very soon. And with that determination she possessed to move forward, Alfred knew that she was something special. She was smarter than he imagined, and even talked a bit about politics with him towards the end of his visit. They had a lot in common, too. Alfred found her to be a great friend, and respected her more and more every time they spoke. She understood how Alfred felt about being ignored and not being taken seriously, and was also a good listener.

There was also her personality. Alfred couldn't help but be attached to her soft, soothing voice and her smooth features and genuinely beautiful appearance. Alfred smiled to himself as he thought about what kind of future she'd have. She loved kids; Alfred was sure she'd make a great mother. The thought appeared in his mind of a laughing Marilyn chasing two little children around a large green backyard, the children screeching in excitement and squealing and running, attempting to avoid capture. Marilyn was dressed in a simple blue and pink dress and wore a small necklace around her neck, and her eyes shone with incomprehensible joy. The children weren't as fast as her, though, and she scooped up her little daughter, swinging her around as they both laughed.

_"Not so fast, my little angel!"_

_"Haha! Let me go! Let me gooo!" The child screeched._

_More giggling._

_"You're not going anywhere!"_

Alfred was so caught up in his sweet reverie that he didn't notice a figure dressed in back creeping up from the back seat. When Alfred caught sight of the figure out of the corner of his eye, he only had time to gasp and swerve the car to the side before he was suddenly hit with something hard and cold, before everything descended into darkness.

* * *

 

Alfred groaned in agony as he came to, only to be tied to a chair and still surrounded by darkness.

"What the.."

"Ah, it seems you are awake." Alfred jumped in surprise at the voice that appeared out of no where. He knew, however, that the voice was familiar.

"Who are you!? Texas? New York? I told you guys to knock off the pranks! The last time you pulled a prank, you nearly blew up the Capital building!"

"No, it's neither of them. They wouldn't be smart enough to come with a plan as ingenious as mine." The voice said, with a somewhat offended tone. Alfred glared at the direction he believed the voice was coming from.

"....West?" He asked. The was a sound of triumph, and suddenly light filled the room. After his eyes adjusted to the sudden light, Alfred realized he was in the basement of the house. West Virginia sat in front of America, eating a bag of chips. Virginia and California were at his sides; Virginia stared at Alfred sternly, armed crossed. California just seemed excited to be a part of the plan. "What are you guys doing!?" America growled.

Virginia glared at America. "You know EXACTLY what we are doing and why." There was silence as Alfred let it sink in. "...This is about Marilyn, isn't it." America stated, annoyed that Virginia would go so far as to kidnap him. Virginia nodded.

"Virginia! This is ridiculous! We're just friends!" Alfred said. Virginia looked away from America, seething in anger. "You're friends now, but it's not going to be the same a few months from now." America felt his anger rising. "That doesn't mean you should KIDNAP me! You could've just talked it out with me later!"

"You don't understand, dad! You've _NEVER_ understood! You don't know how it felt to see Amelia standing there, blind of her fate! To know that she was _DYING!_ That she-"

" _ **SHE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME!**_ "

Silence filled the room. West, California, and Virginia were both stunned. Alfred looked down, trying to hold back tears.

"She was my world. And so are you guys. I loved her and you more than I loved myself. To see her go like that, in a split second, killed me inside. I wanted to end my life right there, I wanted to cry, scream, do anything. But..." Alfred took a shaky breath, the urge to cry stronger than ever.

"..But what good would that do, Huh? Would it bring her back? Heal her wounds? If it worked that way, I would've cried every tear in my body, and screamed until my voice died. I had to be strong for _YOU_ guys. I had to move on for all of us, or else we would still be wearing mourning clothes. She woudldnt want that! She'd want all of us to be _happy!_ That's what I also wanted! Don't you _DARE_ think for a moment that I didn't care about Amelia, or that I have forgotten about her, or that I don't care about your feelings and what you want!"

By now, America couldn't take it anymore. He burst out crying, tears streaming down his face. The three states were still silent, and Virginia had lost all trace of anger. California and West looked somber, near tears themselves.

"...D-Dad.. I.. I'm sorry.. I.. Just.." Virginia could barely manage words. Her heart pounded as she took in what her father was saying. She suddenly felt like an idiot for considering how America felt, or what he wanted. California silently went over and untied the ropes that bound America to the chair. He hastily threw the ropes off, and covered his face in shame for being so weak in front of his children.

Virginia went over, too, and pulled America into a hug. America hugged her back, and the two just stayed there, both crying by now.

"Dad.. It's just.. I l-loved her, too.. I don't want.. Another mom.." Virginia said, sadly. America felt disappointment seep into his heart. They had all been so happy with Amelia around. He wanted to see his kids happy like that again. Even after all this time, his beloved states hadn't fully healed from the tragedy. Many states were still bitter over the event, and refused to even consider having a replacement.

"....At least accept her.. As a friend. She's a good person, Virginia... You'd get along great with her, I know it." Alfred entreated. Virginia was silent, before sighing.

"...Alright, dad. I'll accept her. Only as a friend." Alfred smiled softly. At least they had made some progress. "But I want you to promise me that you won't fall in love with her." This statement surprised Alfred, and for a moment, he didn't know how to act. But before long, he knew exactly what to say, and he said so with complete confidence, unaware of the path it would set him and his states and practically the entire world on. But in that moment, all that mattered to Alfred was his children. His beloved states.

"....I wouldn't dream of it."


	8. Teases and Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder:
> 
> This chapter is going to be the result of a chapter 2! If you need a refresher, go back and check out that chapter so you can understand what goes on in this one! 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy the chapter!

 

1949

Alfred whistled to himself as he walked down the long corridor. He could already hear the ruckus that the nations of the world were making a few doors away.

Usually, Alfred would saunter on in like usual, proclaiming that "The hero is here!" and starting the meeting. But today, for some reason, Alfred wasn't really in the mood. He wasn't sure why, but he supposed it was because he had a lot on his mind. He had been thinking a lot about Virginia and the other states. The events of a while ago had created some sort of mutual rift between Alfred and Virginia. Every time they saw each other, they could only mumble a few awkward words before quickly leaving. Alfred didn't know why this would be the case, but he was tired of it. He just wanted things to return to normal again.

But, he wondered, why had they made such a big deal over his friendship with Marilyn? Could they sense something Alfred couldn't? Or maybe they just took it the wrong way? What if maybe-

**BAM!**

Alfred crumpled to the floor in shock. Groaning, Alfred grabbed his head in agony. "Ugh, seriously?." He moaned. Looking up, he saw the large oak doors that opened into the conference room.

Alfred groaned in annoyance as he got up and smoothed down his gray suit and attempted to fix his tousled hair. _'Another useless meeting I guess,'_ He thought to himself before taking a deep breath and pushing open the large doors.

All chattering that had previously taken place suddenly quieted, and Alfred felt all eyes on him. Alfred walked in, already seeing certain nations in the crowd. Germany sat near the front of the table, an exhausted look on his face. Italy and Japan sat around him, both mirroring Germany's look. The ex-Axis Powers had taken a hard hit after the end of the War. Germany's people had been working furiously to get out of this crisis, as were Japan and Italy's people. America felt sympathy for them. He offered them a small smile as he walked to the podium.

England sat towards the end of the table, a stern look on his face as he sipped his fresh tea. China sat next to him, drinking his own tea. France sat on the other side of England, giving America a strange look. America already felt nervous. That look was never a good thing. France knew something. Russia sat next to China, glaring fiercely at America. America silently returned the glare. The other nations seemed to notice this, and grew a bit nervous.

America arrived at the podium, and looked out over the crowd of silent nations. He opened his mouth to say something, but another nation's voice cut the silence.

"What? No 'I'm the hero'?" Prussia's voice called out. America rolled his eyes. "I'm just not in the mood today." He explained. Prussia and France exchanged looks before snickering.

Now America felt really nervous.

"Are you, Señor?" Spain's cheery voice said from next to Prussia. "Are you sure it's not something else?" Spain asked suggestively. Confusion filled America's face. "W-What?"

"Oui, he's right! Tell us, Mon petite! You don't seem like your usual self." France said. America was silent. Immediately, many nations began chattering amongst each other, gossiping like no tomorrow.

"Haha! Look, he's blushing! Maybe he's seeing a certain someone!" Prussia cackled. America's cheeks lit up even more. "W-What, no! No, that's not it! I just-" America jumped in surprise when he felt Spain's arm wrap around him. "Oh, don't be so secretive, Señor! Besides, we already know that you have a little Señorita around!" Spain winked knowingly. 

Prussia cackled again, "Maybe he's wondering what to get his little girlfriend!" Germany grabbed Prussia's collar and growled words at him quietly, but Prussia soon escaped from Germany's still-weary grip.

Some nations gasped. Others looked surprised, and others just didn't really care. America's jaw nearly hit the floor. The gossiping and chatter amongst the nations only got louder, despite America's attempts to quell the noise.

"I must say, Mon ami, you have very fine taste in women. Blondes always did seem to have a certain quality about them, no?" France said, on the other side of America.

America's eyes widened. Now he understood. France, Prussia, and Spain had spied on him and Marilyn somehow. He felt a sense of violation and anger fill him. When had they watched him? How? What did they see? What did they hear?

" _ALRIGHT!_ " America yelled, finally quieting all of the nations. Clenching his fists, America seemed to radiate anger. Even Spain, Prussia, and France seemed shocked, and they backed away slowly. Many other nations seemed to grow wary at the anger and power America radiated.

"We came here for a meeting, and that's exactly whats going to happen." America growled to the assembled nations. Spain, Prussia, and France quickly rushed to their seats, and all fell silent.

Returning to his normal demeanor, America straightened himself and began his speech. Only now he could hardly think, too many questions and fears filling the back of his mind.


	9. Turning Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait to publish this next chapter! 
> 
> See notes at the end!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

1949

Alfred quickly walked out of the UN Building in New York and into the brisk October air. The meeting hadn't gone as he had planned. Not at all. He figured that he might be able to get through this meeting without incident, and maybe even squeeze in a chat or two with Russia in attempts to make a deal of sorts with the Cold War going on. His boss had come up with the idea, of course.

Instead, what he'd gotten was a day full of stares and and nothing but whispers. He even thought he had seen Russia snickering and smirking at him from the other end of the room. Just this thought made America seethe with rage.

Alfred suddenly slowed his pace when he realized he didn't know where he was going. Where to relax after such a meeting? He decided just to walk around and see what was new among his people. Locating a news stand a few blocks away next to a coffee shop, he reached out and pulled out a thick newspaper and gazing at its contents. The front cover displays the brazen title:

**'SOVIET UNION EXPLODES FIRST ATOMIC BOMB'**

Alfred already felt dread seeping into his person. He skimmed through the article, but quickly turned the page after deciding he wanted to focus on something more lighthearted. He gazed upon the new title.

**'NATO OFFICIALLY ESTABLISHED'**

Alfred smiled a little here. He and many other nations had worked hard to come to an agreement on the design and function of NATO, and he hoped that this new group would help solve many problems and ease the Cold War tension. He looked at the other page.

**'COMMUNISTS WIN CHINESE CIVIL WAR'**

Alfred's eyes widened in shock and dismay. Communists had taken China. Recently, it felt like many nations had fallen to Communism. Alfred only felt awful that he couldn't help those poor people who would pay the price. The world stage was changing everyday. The world was once again becoming devided, so soon after a terrible World War 2 had devastated the World's economies and cultures. Nations were splitting, forced to choose either Capitalism or Communism.

Feeling the need to focus on other articles in the newspaper, Alfred skimmed through a few more pages before his eyes suddenly landed on a familiar face.

It was Marilyn. Her image was posted next to a small article, lost within the many other articles in the paper. She was seated with a poised and serious countenance. Her hair wasn't as curly as Alfred had previously seen, instead it was styled more straight, with curls towards the edges of her hair. The title read:

**'MONROE SIGNS UP FOR UPCOMING PICTURE 'ASPHALT JUNGLE''**

Alfred smiled once more. His friend had been busy recently. She had mentioned to him a few times that she was hoping to star in a certain picture*, and it looks like she would.

As he studied the picture, he failed to notice a presence behind him until the person spoke.

"Alfred."

America froze at the voice, and slowly turned to look into bright green eyes. England stood there, almost awkwardly, and breathing a bit heavy. It was clear that he had been looking for the American. The Englishman quickly straightened himself and coughed into his fist.

"I... I apologize for interrupting you, but I wanted to speak to you." He said. Alfred, not really knowing what to say, just nodded awkwardly.

The Brit continued. "R-Right, well, there has been much talk about you at the meeting, as I'm sure you know.." Alfred immediately resisted the urge to groan. What, would he receive a lecture about why nations should avoid humans? England could clearly sense America's annoyance.

"Look, I just wanted to confirm what they were saying was true." He said firmly. Alfred sighed. "And I will tell you what I told the many other nations who confronted me. We are only friends. God, why do you feel the need to make assumptions based on what could easily be nothing?" Alfred growled, mostly to himself, but loud enough to be heard. England glared. "I just wanted to be sure, you git! You know how the nations are when it comes to gossip. Especially when it comes to relationships."

Alfred was silent, knowing that Arthur was right. Besides, he told himself, if he saw a nation hanging out with a woman at a diner or taking a walk, he would also have his suspicions. Especially if said nation and woman were seen together often. Perhaps that was why Virginia immediately assumed that they were seeing eachother. And if France, Spain, and Prussia had seen him and Marilyn at that diner, well, they obviously had nothing better to do than to share their story, along with a multitude of rumors.

After apologizing and making small talk with England for a few minutes, England appeared to notice the newspaper Alfred had forgotten he was even holding.

"Hey," he said. "Who's that?" Only then did it occur to Alfred that Marilyn wasn't well known in America, never mind the rest of the world. Nobody outside of the U.S. knew her name. That was most likely why France, Spain, and Prussia never pinned a name to the woman they saw with him when they shared their findings.

"Oh, that's Marilyn. Marilyn Monroe. She's the girl I'm friends with." England seemed mildly shocked as he scanned over the article. "She's.. An actress?" He said, emerald eyes wide. Alfred nodded. "Yep! You don't know her now, but soon you will!" He said with a big grin. "You just wait and see!"

England could barely resist a small smile from appearing on his face.

"I'm sure I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *'Picture' is the name for movies. It wasn't called 'movie' until later. 
> 
> -I would like to remind you that the story is based on real events, and I work to use good historical accuracy!
> 
> I would also like to apologize to readers for the long wait. It's been awhile since I updated and I will try to do so more often. I have NOT lost inspiration for this story! 
> 
> Also, I want to announce that I will be editing this story! I won't be changing any lines except those that I find are misspelled or wrongly used, but I will do things like italicize or bold some words out in the stories. I will do this at soon as I publish this next chapter!


	10. Bad Breakups

 

1949

 

It was near 3 AM when Alfred received a rather disturbing call.

He was woken suddenly by the shrill ringing of the telephone. He groaned into his pillow before reaching his arm over and picking up the phone. Bringing it to his ear, while keeping his face buried into his pillow, he mumbled a groggy, "Hello??"

"Alfred..."

America felt some of his sleepiness leave him. Marilyn? What would Marilyn be calling for so early in the morning? He asked Marilyn exactly that.

"I-I'm sorry for waking you, but... I just... Something really awful happened." She said, whimpering. Hearing Marilyn sound so upset made the rest of Alfred's grogginess flee him. He sat up in bed, rubbing at his wild hair. "No, no, it's alright. What happened?" He asked her, trying to sound attentive but not wanting to be loud enough to wake up the other occupants of the house.

"...Do you remember my acting coach? Fred Karger? The one I mentioned a while ago?" She asked him. Alfred was now confused. Fred Karger? What was going on with Karger that made Marilyn so upset? "Um, yes? Why?"

Alfred could hear Marilyn take a deep breath on the other line. "He.. He ended our relationship..." Alfred's eyes widened to unbelievable proportions. Relationship? They had been in a relationship? Alfred had only thought that she had a crush on him, but...

Aside from the shock, many other emotions swept over Alfred. Sympathy for his friend, anger at the man who hurt her feelings....

And, for a moment so small that Alfred wondered if it ever even happened, a pang of happiness. And an hour later, Alfred found himself in Marilyn's suite, awkwardly eating ice cream and watching movies. He wondered if he and Marilyn were close enough to be doing things like this. But then again, it had been three years since they'd met. Pondering over this fact, Alfred found himself in awe. _'Three years... it seems like its only been a few months...'_ He said to himself. But then again, time passed a lot faster for nations than it did for humans. As Alfred wandered into his thoughts, Marilyn suddenly leaned her head against Alfred's shoulder as they watched the movie, lurching Alfred from his thoughts and back into reality. 

Alfred blushed furiously. Was this what friends did? He hadn't had many friends in his relatively short life. He was only less than 200 years old. Either way, Alfred still began to feel uncomfortable, and his face was now bright red. He was about to ask Marilyn to move over, when she suddenly spoke.

"You know, when I was a little girl in the orphanage*, I would always stare out of the window every night when I was supposed to be asleep. And i'd look out at the movie studios and say to myself, 'There must be a million girls wishing to be a movie star, but I dont care, because i'm dreaming harder than all of them.'" Marilyn was so quiet and solem when she said this that Alfred wasn't sure how to respond. He groped for anything in his mind he could say to such a statement. "W-Well.. You're starting to do lots of good movies... One of these days, you're going to be a star. One of the most amazing stars that Hollywood has ever seen. I know it." Alfred said to her. Marilyn smiled softly and looked up at him. 

For what seemed like an eternity, they did nothing but stare at eachother in the eyes. Alfred stared into Marilyn's light blue eyes, and then he felt it. It was hard for him to describe, or even explain. He hadn't felt this strange emotion for a long time, _that_ he knew.

Suddenly, Alfred was whisked away to another time, in another place, but still staring into light blue eyes.

" _Don't worry, Alfred."_

_"No! What if something happens to you? I can't let you do this!"_

_"Al, I've trained for this my whole life. I'm ready."_

_The woman turns and walks away, but Alfred stays behind, staring at the table of an old diner, tears threatening to fall from his face._

" _Yes, but im not ready." He said quietly, before he began to sob._

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the memory disappeared in a flash. And Alfred was left staring into Marilyn Monroe's eyes-- Eyes that now seemed too familiar for him to cope.

"U-Um, hey listen, I... I think I have to go.. See, i've got a big meeting tomorrow, and..." Alfred said anxiously as he got up from the couch and grabbed his jacket. Marilyn sat there, confusion written on her face. 

"A-Al? Are.. Are you okay?" She asked cautiously. "Oh, yeah!" Alfred said. "Never better! Well, bye!" he said quickly before opening the front door and stepping out into the hallway. He closed the door behind him and began to rush down to the lobby and out the door, cursing himself as he ran. 

 _'Of course, because that's all you can ever do, huh? Run from your problems, as if they'll ever go away. When in reality, it stays with you, biting and gnawing on your soul until you snap.'_ Alfred said coldly, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing, nor could he quell the gibbering panic that oozed from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Yes, Marilyn spent the majority of her childhood in foster homes. She had, from what I remember, up to 11 sets of foster parents. 
> 
> -As a reminder, I'm sure a lot of you are wondering about this mysterious "Amelia" character, and want to know when she will finally be in a chapter and will have her story explained. Well, I plan on having her finally introduced in the next one or two chapters! Remember, this is a slow developing story, but it does and will progressively get more intense as the story develops. I just want to make sure to add in details and historical points that contribute to the climax and resolution of the story. Believe me, the climax will be 10x as intense as these first chapters! I've got tons of stuff I want to incorporate, as well as a few romantic scenes that I know a lot of you are wanting to see! So yeah, stay tuned! :D


	11. Memories Uncovered

 

1949

Alfred weeped as he leaned against the side of the building, tears rolling down his cheeks. In the cold air, the wetness made his cheeks feel freezing, which only made Alfred feel even worse. 

All along, he'd believed that the times he spent with Marilyn were just two friends creating fond memories together; passing the hours by having fun rather than staying indoors. But only now did it dawn on Alfred how...  _Wrong_ it was. He was out spending all this time with Marilyn just having fun, when actuality he was creating a very troublesome and dangerous situation without even realizing it. 

He was breaking his promise to Virginia, to his Amelia, and to himself. 

He was becoming too close. Looking into Marilyn's eyes, he realized something he hadn't known earlier. All those strange emotions he'd felt and known were familiar but could pinpoint. All those days thinking about Marilyn and himself. It all suddenly clicked as he looked into her eyes. 

He was falling in love.

Alfred slid down against the wall, sobbing harshly now. It wasn't just that he was breaking his promise without realizing it. It was that what he saw in Marilyn's eyes was something he never expected to see again.

He saw  _her._

Before Alfred knew it, he was launched back through time once more, except now he had connected all of the pieces, and the puzzle revealed was the complete opposite of what he wanted.

_"Wow! You're an amazing flyer! I've seen many people fly, but believe me when I say you're the best!"_

_Amelia smiled at the young man who had been watching her practice and approached her after she finished._

_"Thank you. You're too kind."_

_"So, how long have you been doing this?"_

_Amelia thought for a moment. "Oh, a few years. You have to train a lot."_

_Alfred grinned jokingly. "Maybe I could teach ya' a few things." Amelia snickered. "Yeah, sure."_

_"Ah, I believe I didn't catch your name. You can call me Alfred. Alfred F. Jones." Amelia smiled once more._

_"Well Alfred, you can call me Amelia. Amelia Earhart."_

Alfred felt a mix of emotions as the memory faded. Most of all, he felt sad. He missed Amelia so much, and clearly everyone else did too.

_"A-Alfred! Are you sure this this safe? What are you doing? Where are we going? Wh-"_

_Alfred smirked, tsking as he shook his head. "Oh, Amelia. Everyone knows a guy doesn't like it when a lady asks too many questions. How do you plan to get a husband like that?"_

_Amelia grinned challengingly. "Oh, Alfred. I thought you liked my curiosity? Are you not a man?" She said, leaning in._

_Alfred leaned in unwaveringly. "Oh, Amelia. You should know by now that I'm not like the usual guy." He said._

_And before Amelia could respond, Alfred closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together sweetly. Within moments, Amelia eagerly kissed back, wrapping her arms around Alfred's neck. And suddenly time seemed to slow down, and the only thing that mattered was the two of them, their plane flying over a large field as the two occupants kissed, and a new chapter began for the both of them._

Alfred's lips twitched slightly upwards at the fond memory. It wasnt Alfred's first kiss, but it was certainly the most amazing he'd ever had.

_"What!? You're marrying who!?"_

_Amelia sighed. "George Putnam. You know him, Al."_

_"But why are you marrying him!?" Alfred argued, a pout on his face. He was attempting to hide his jealousy, but he was failing miserably._

_Amelia smiled up at him lovingly. "Alfred, c'mon. This marriage is just a partnership, that's all. You know I love you." Alfred looked to the floor, silent._

_"...Tell you what. How about after my circumnavigation mission, I divorce Putnam and you and I can get married." Alfred looked up then, shocked._

_"You... You mean that? You promise?" Amelia nodded. "I promise."_

Alfred sighed, wiping the tears from his cheeks.  _'Well, my love. At least you keep your promises..'_ He thought to himself. 

_Alfred cried hard. He cried so devastatingly hard that his cries could probably be heard from down the block. But Alfred couldn't bring himself to care. As he lay on his bed, sobbing and grieving and wishing for the millionth time that he could die, he wondered how his cries sounded to the people walking around outside. Would they recognize the sounds of a broken lover's cries over his lost love? Would they feel remorse? Would they even care?_

_The news came in not five minutes ago. Amelia had disappeared on her flight. And what was worse was that she came_ so close.  _So close to home, to a completed mission, to Alfred. And their future._

_Alfred failed to realize that an object had fallen from his pocket and dropped onto the floor, opening._

_The diamond engagement ring no longer seemed as happy and beautiful as when he bought it, but now seemed despondent and lost in a cloud of 'what ifs.'_

Alfred's heart clenched as the memory faded and he was once again in reality, sitting on the pavement behind the hotel, sniveling and weeping. Eventually, Alfred pulled himself to the floor and forced his legs to move towards his car, his hands deep in his jacket pockets.

He had a lot of things he had to settle. 


	12. Volatile Veneration

 

 

1950

 

Alfred had so much on his plate, he wished he could throw himself into the ocean and drown. But sadly, his life didn't work that way. 

He hadn't seen Marilyn in a while, but he hadn't stopped thinking about their last encounter together. She had attempted to call him several times over the last few months, but he had been so humiliated by his sudden exit and unsure of what to say that he didn't answer the calls. However, he knew he had to solve this problem eventually. Distance doesn't solve your problems, but it makes it worse.

So, the next time Marilyn called him around 5 in the afternoon one day, he forced himself to answer it.

"H-Hello..?" He asked. "Alfred! Thank God! I was beginning to think you'd never answer." Marilyn's relieved voice said on the other side of the line. Alfred sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just, I didn't know how to talk to you."

Marilyn was silent for a second. "Hey, why did you leave so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?" Alfred bit his lip. He knew this question would come up. "No! No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just.. It's just that, well, I don't know..."

"It's just that, what?" Marilyn asked softly. "You can tell me anything, you know." Alfred took a deep breath. "I-Its just that, you remind me of someone I knew earlier.. And.." Alfred trailed off. Marilyn made a knowing sound. 

"Ah, I see.." She said. "Did you two used to date..?" She asked, curiously. Alfred blushed. "Yeah.. We did. A long time ago."

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," Marilyn said regretfully. "I didn't know you'd react that way. I shouldn't have acted the way I did." This only made Alfred feel bad. "No, it's alright. You didn't know," He reasoned. "I should've mentioned her to you." 

"Do you mind if I ask what happened..?" She inquired. Alfred fell into silence. Tell her? Tell her what? How could he explain such an event? He swallowed, nervously.

"W-Well, she was working in a factory in England. She moved there a few years back, but we kept in contact. The last time I was able to talk to her was a few days before the Blitz. A week after that, we got the news that she...." Alfred trailed off in an attempt to sound sorrowful. 

"Oh my gosh! Im so sorry! That's horrible!" Marilyn gasped. Her reaction made Alfred crack a smile. Maybe one day he'd trust her enough to tell her the truth. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Alfred was finishing up paperwork in his office when he got the call. His boss called his office, and when Alfred answered, all he said was one sentence before hanging up.

"We are at war with Korea."

Alfred slowly removed the phone from his ear a few moments after listening to the empty ring of the disconnected line, and simply sat there, unable to say a word.

His people were at war. Only a few years after the end of World War 2. Alfred wanted to cry, or yell, or do something, but the only thing his mind registered was complete stillness. 

He was already having such a hard time dealing with Russia, and now this? When would it end? He was fine with dealing with Russia and Korea. He was fine with not being friends with them. But he drew the line when it came to his citizens. So many thousands has already died for him in the Great War. And Alfred was  _not_ going to sit back and watch as even more families were torn apart, as children cried and begged their fathers not to leave them, and as young women tried to be strong but failed as they watched husbands leave the safety of their home.

After spending countless hours it seemed thinking and planning what he could do to help his people. Alfred, although he was a nation, could'nt just stop the war then and there. Nobody knew of his name or title, which meant he had no political influence at all. As far as anyone knew, he was just a regular teenage boy.

After mulling over this information, Alfred suddenly came up with an idea. Perhaps, his unknown identity could help him. He would appeal to his people more (the audience he needed to interest), instead of the politicians. 

With the backing of his people, Alfred would be able to achieve more than anything any politician could. 

Now, Alfred wasn't going to create an angry mob to storm the White House with pitch forks and torches. However, he did hate his people going to war. So, while he had no power to convince Congress to end the war himself, why not do whatever possible to make the experience as easy as possible for his men? 

Alfred smiled mischievously as details and possibilities swirled into his head. He had a lot of work to do if he was going to make this happen. But first, he needed to make a very important call to a very important person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Alfred. What are you planning, you crazy little rascal you. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think of my story so far!


	13. Destitute Downfalls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So i'd like to clear up a bit of information about my stories on this website. If you haven't noticed, there are only two stories posted on my account. And the first story posted here was a one-shot I thought up. My plan for this account is to only post one chapter book at a time. So, I wont be working on two different work-in-progress stories at once, because I am busy, and on the days that i'm not, I dont feel like writing. Basically, I do not have the motivation and such to work on two.  
> So after this story is completed (which won't be for a while), I might begin a different story afterwards. This story is not designed and planned out in my head to have a sequel (you'll understand why at the ending), however I might decide to create a side-story for this one, with other mini-stories about this series. I can't say much on that, though. Or else I will ruin the plotline.  
> Anyway, thank you for listening to this announcement, and enjoy the chapter!
> 
> ~I've decided it's time to start kicking things up a notch, and after this chapter, i'm going to start getting the ball rolling and we will see the rising action start to unfold quicker!
> 
> This will still be a slow developing story, however!~

 

1950

 

"I have to admit, this is actually a really good idea."

Alfred smirked and glanced over at Marilyn, who was sitting next to him at a table. They were sitting outside a busy street in New York, where they set up a table with a light purple tablecloth over it and two chairs, and even a poster board they put together at a park and placed in front of their set-up. Their poster was drawn on with markers and other utensils, and had the bold words, " **HELP SUPPORT OUR TROOPS; DONATE TODAY,** " Dominating the top of it. The rest of the poster was covered with pictures that they cut out of magazines of soldiers fighting and eating meals and wrapping wounds in gauge and banadges.

When they finished it, Alfred actually felt kind of proud of their hard work. Marilyn, on the other hand, said it was "the stupidest thing she's ever seen." Still, they laughed and joked with eachother as they put together their 'masterpiece.' Alfred couldn't remember the last time he had done something so relaxing and childish and so... carefree. It made him miss those lazy summer days so many years ago, where all he had to do all day was figure out what to do to pass the time. Nowadays, it seemed Alfred was doing to exact opposite: looking for a way to have to do nothing at all. It made him feel like nothing in the world mattered except making sure that picture was glued correctly (It wasn't. No matter what Marilyn said).

Alfred was really thankful that Marilyn had managed to carve out time to do this with him. She had had a full schedule this week, but decided on canceling a coffee meetup with her manager to discuss other roles in upcoming movies in order to appease her friend. In all honesty, when Alfred found out that Marilyn had done that for him, it made that feeling he commonly got around her suddenly flare again, except now it was stronger; it was becoming harder and harder to ignore this feeling. And of course, Alfred knew what it was now. He'd had many nights having a near panic attack wondering and thinking over the situation he was still trapped in. 

One thing was for certain, though. Just because he had a small crush on his friend, there was no way she'd ever find out. Besides, what if she was interested in someone else? What if he wasn't enough for her? Couldn't provide for her the way another man could? Being with a nation was a very hard and even taboo thing to do if you were a human. It wasn't law, but it was most certainly unaccepted and discouraged among the nations. That didn't mean that it hadn't happened, though.

He remembered listening to many stories told by nations at bars or parties. Stories about past flings between nations and humans. One of the most infamous affairs was France and a girl he had loved many years ago: Joan of Arc. It was a tragic story; most nations even held a hint of remorse for the nation everytime the story was mentioned. Alfred had felt dread wash over him everytime he heard it. An innocent woman, captured by the English and burned for a crime that she didn't commit. 

If not even the Nation of Love could find happiness with the companionship of another, how could  _he_ possibly be able to do the same thing? 

Alfred couldn't imagine how it would be if Marilyn was the one being tied to the stake, hearing her screams as her body burned, her soul shrivel in the flames. And how helpless he would feel, crying on the floor at the innocent girl's demise.

"....Hey, Alfred! That girl asked you a question!" Alfred snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Marilyn's chastising voice. He looked up to see a middle aged woman who was standing in front of their table. She was dressed fairly casually, but had a long brown trenchcoat protecting her from the chill of New York. "I-Im sorry, miss. Could you repeat that?" The woman smiled. "I asked, are you planning to raise money for our soldiers?" Alfred nodded quickly. "Yes. We're hoping to raise money to buy equipment and food and other supplies to send to the soldiers fighting in Korea."

"Oh, how noble of you two! I wish you luck on your little fundraiser!" The woman said as she dug into her purse and fished out a few dollars. Dropping them into the jar that was placed at the center of the table, she wished the two a happy day and continued her walk. When she was gone, Marilyn took out the money and counted it in her hand. "Four... five.. Six dollars and fourty-five cents." She announced plainly. 

Alfred sighed, resting his elbow on the table and holding his head in his hand. Maybe he'd been a little too hopeful. What was he expecting, crowds stretching a mile long just to put some coins in a jar? "Hey, don't worry. We've only been here for about thirty minutes. I'm sure we'll gather more money soon." Marilyn comforted, placing a gentle hand on Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred was about to respond with a (very well-thought out) sarcastic reply when a voice interrupted him. "Raising money for the troops, I see?" Alfred and Marilyn snapped their heads over in the direction of the voice. Standing in front of the table was an older man. He was wearing a neat black suit and holding a briefcase in his hand. It was in the middle of the day, so Alfred wasn't sure if he was leaving work, going  _to_ work, or just going out to eat lunch. With his briefcase. His hair was also graying, and a pair of spectacles sat atop his nose, much like Alfred's did. 

 "Yes, sir. We are." Marilyn said with a polite smile.  _'This guy does seem like he's particularly wealthy,'_ Thought Alfred. ' _Maybe Marilyn can charm some money out of him.'_ The man smiled at Marilyn. "Well, look who we have here! You wouldn't happen to be miss Monroe, would you?" He asked her with a mix of shock and amusement. Marilyn seemed taken aback for a moment. She hadn't been noticed too much lately. There _were_ a few people who started to recognize her, though. She smiled brightly up at him in excitement. "Y-Yes, I am! And this is my friend, Alfred." She said, gesturing to the teen sitting next to her. Alfred and the man exchanged greetings before he turned back to Marilyn. After a moment, he leaned forward and bit looked around to make sure that others weren't looking in their direction.

"I'd like to help you and your little project out since I am an avid supporter of our boys on the frontlines, so here," The man said in a low voice. He set his briefcase down on the table and opened it enough to reach inside. Then, he quickly pulled out a wad of bills. Marilyn and Alfred gaped as the man hurriedly handed Marilyn the bills. "Just make sure nobody else sees this. You know how people in the City react to large money, what with all the gangs and hooligans." The gentleman said, his face showing obvious disdain. 

Marilyn could barely find her voice, but as soon as she did, she thanked the man profusely as she hid the money in her pocket. Luckily, she'd decided not to wear a dress today but rather casual blue jeans and a red sweater with white stripes on the arms. Alfred was also dressed casually; he was wearing jeans, a white tee, a pair of worn down shoes he found in the back of his closet (which surprisingly still fit), and his bomber jacket.

The man nodded his head and then hurried off down the street once more. Marilyn and Alfred then quickly took the money out and counted it. Alfred's eyes widened. "This is three hundred dollars!" He said in astonishment. Marilyn let out a laugh, and threw her arms around Alfred's shoulders. Alfred returned the action excitedly. "Alfred! This is great! It should be more than enough to cover the costs of supplies!" Marilyn cried happily. Alfred laughed, as well. "Y-Yeah! I just can't believe it.." Marilyn pulled away and ruffled Alfred's hair. "Well, you'd better! What do you say we go get some pies to celebrate, hm?" She said with a grin. Alfred smiled. "Sure! I could eat." 

After waiting a few more minutes, the duo packed up the table and chairs and placed the items into the trunk of a car Alfred had rented while he was in New York. Then, still holding the jar despite Alfred's warnings not to, they set off towards the cafe. "So, should we try to do another fundraiser some other time?" Alfred asked, hands in his pockets. Marilyn nodded. "I dont see why not. This day was rather successful, and its a good cause. So I think it's a good idea." Alfred smiled at her. "Okay, then! I'll try to plan something out for next week. I dont think i'll be busy then." Marilyn looked at him with a spark of amusement in her eyes. "Don't you have a job you work at? I swear, everytime I see you, you act as if you haven't worked a day in your life." Alfred blushed lightly. "Of course I have work! I just tend to get it all done in the office, that's all." Marilyn was silent for a moment. "You know, you never really talk to me about your life and friends and all that." She frowned. "It seems kind of weird that we've been friends for so long and yet I know so little about you except the basics." Alfred sighed. Marilyn was right. It had probably been long enough that he could tell her more about himself. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" Marilyn pondered for a few moments, letting her eyes wander as she thought. "Well, what do you-"

Marilyn suddenly stopped in her tracks. Alfred stopped too, feeling an uneasiness sprout in his stomach at the sight of Marilyn's heavily distressed face. "Marilyn..?" He asked, cautiously. But Marilyn didn't answer; her eyes were glued to something ahead of her, hints of fear in them, and she was standing as still as a statue. He turned to look at what she had seen, and his stomach dropped. He tried to refrain from showing the paleness that appeared on his skin, although he was sure he was failing miserably.

They must have wandered off into a rather empy part of town without realising it, because the streets were nearly empty, no thronging crowds or constant buzzing of sound- how could he have missed that?- in sight. Instead, there was a group of five men dressed in dark pants and hoods. They stood about twenty yards ahead of them, and they stood as still as Marilyn had. They wielded baseball bats in their right hands. 

The sudden banging sound behind them alerted them that more were now behind them. Marilyn was broken out of her stupor, and she and Alfred whirled around to see five other men in similar dress approaching slowly from behind. The banging sound had been the sound of a bat being repeatedly beat against the concrete by the man in the middle of the new group. Marilyn stood trembling, with the jar of money clutched protectively in her hands. She glanced around her frantically, and Alfred felt a surge of anger fill his person.

He could tell that this gang wouldn't be letting them go without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I have made you lovelies an extra long chapter because I felt like it. Hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think of it!


	14. The Fight for Freedom

 

1950

 

The last time Alfred had been in a fight, it had been during World War 2. And he still remembered the stench of death surrounding him, and the cries and moans from the soldiers who were falling all around him as his men charged their way into forts and concentration camps. His nose could never forget the toxic bombs that the Germans pelted them with, and the scorching sound of the vapor tearing into the eyes and nose of his men, killing them within minutes. 

These memories seemed to flash before Alfred's eyes in that moment for some reason. But the memory of them gave Alfred all of the stamina and vigor he felt he needed. He had already been faced with the loss of millions of brave men. And for what? Just so street gangs could attack the citizens who were being protected by those soldiers, who were willing to give their lives?

Alfred could see a trembling Marilyn out of the corner of his eye, and the sight of her fear demeanor made Alfred feel something deep in his chest that he couldn't remember ever feeling before. A burning hatred and anger, but there was something he just faintly recognized in himself as well.

Protectiveness. Offense. 

Alfred knew that this gang was after the many bills in the jar that she was holding. And that they'd be willing to attack and fatally injure such a kind girl, or anybody for that matter, only made Alfred's anger grow in ferocity. Just then, one of the boys in front of them stepped forward, a wicked gleam in his horrid eyes. 

"Hey, man. How's about you give us that jar there, and we'll let you and your girlfriend go, eh?" He said, his voice raspy and sounding as if he'd smoked 1,000 times too many. Still, Alfred couldn't deny the sudden skip of a heartbeat with this boy's teasing words.  _Girlfriend... Is that how she and I look? Like we're dating?_ Alfred knew that it was rediculous to be focusing on such trivial matters in their situation, but he really couldn't help but wonder how many people believed them to be some happy teenage couple whenever they would walk by. 

Apparently, Alfred took too long to respond, because Marilyn spoke up next. "No! This is  _our_ money. We worked for this. Go make your own!" Alfred had to admit, he was kind of proud that she was standing up for herself, because he knew how scared she really was. But, he cursed her in his mind, because by the look the gangleader was giving them, he wasn't pleased.

He gave them an irriated smirk. "Oh, we got a feisty one, huh boys? I can see why ya like her, Glasses. Maybe you wouldn't mind if we all took 'er out to dinner with us later?" 

Alfred didnt know why, but That comment made him feel highly insulted. He was about to make that _very_ clear to the kid until he heard a sudden gasp and scream from behind him. Alfred whirled around in time to see the second group gripping Marilyn's arms tightly, dragging her back and ripping the jar from her hands. Marilyn was screaming in protest, trying desperately to escape their grasp. 

_"Hey!"_

Alfred was suddenly on top of one of the boys, punching him as many times as possible. The kid clearly had not expected this reaction out of Alfred, and was taken completely by surprise. Apparently, everyone was taken by surprise, as he heard a shout from behind him and heard the first group quickly approaching. Alfred landed one last punch, knocking the first kid unconscious, before quickly jumping back to his feet with the kid's baseball bat in his hands. As hard as he could, he swung around in the direction he heard the first group heading as they made their way toward Alfred. 

It was a solid hit. A good  _crack_ split the air and the victim shouted out, staggering back and clutching his probably broken arm. His friends, however, were still going at it. Alfred was outnumbered six to one, and he knew that as he was grabbed and scratching and punched from all sides. The second group had taken their attention away from Marilyn, who sat dazedly on the sidewalk. 

Alfred knew he couldn't defeat six men all at once. Marilyn had to help him. He sent her a pleading look, hoping that she understood. And her eyes met his. As he stared into her blue eyes, he thought he saw something within her change. As if she was no longer a weak damsel in distress, but now someone who's lives depended on her. She scurried up, quickly scanning the area for the jar, which had been set down by one of the gang members when they went to fight off Alfred. 

All of Alfred's thoughts were suddenly torn from his mind when he felt a sudden, mind-shattering pain in the back of his head. His thoughts were scrambled, and all he could see were flashes of bright colors. After a few moments, he realized he was know laying on the asphalt, with five men standing above him. He must've taken out one more before being hit by one of the baseball bats.

Alfred could see out of the corner of his eye, Marilyn standing there with the jar in her hands, her eyes wide in shock and fear. Alfred turned slightly toward her, as if beckoning for some kind of help to solve his pain. But instead, she did something Alfred had never expected her to do. 

With the money jar clutched protectively in her arms, Marilyn Monroe turned and fled from the scene, leaving Alfred alone.

 


	15. Feelings and Family

 

1950

 

Numbness. That was what Alfred first felt as he began to regain consciousness, though at the moment, all he could see was black. It was cold and quiet here, in the recesses of his mind. Alfred couldn't help but find it strange that such a bright and knowledge-teeming place as the brain could feel so dark and empty. But still, it was better than loudness and brightness. The silence usually unnerved Alfred, but right now he felt relaxed and content in it, and all he wanted to do was let the darkness consume him, and let it take him back down into the realm of unconsciousness, where one had no worries, no pain, no nothing. 

 Alfred, to his chagrin, began to hear things. Very low, very quiet, and uninteligible. The sentences were all molded together, and he could decipher no words. Still, the voices became louder and louder, and soon were more clear until he could hear every word.

 "....Just don't get it!" One voice said. It was masculine, and was filled with frustration and confusion. "Perhaps the diagnosis was wrong?" Another voice responded. This one was feminine, and sounded more uncertain. He heard the male sigh, and the sound of someone getting up from a chair and moving to stand by his bedside. "Hey... I think he's waking up." The male voice said urgently. Alfred then realized that he was slightly able to make out the blurry form of the man. After regaining his hearing, his sight was now starting to come forth, and as the moments ticked by, his sight cleared more and more. When his vision cleared up enough, he could see the face of a middle-aged looking doctor looking down at him with brown eyes. His hair was distinctly black, but with streaks of white marring many parts of it. From behind him, a young lady in a nurse's outfit stood, watching him carefully. She had darker skin, and dark brown hair sprung from all sides of her head in an afro-styled haircut. Her brown eyes regarded Alfred with fascination, while the doctor, in his prim white coat, looked stoic as all doctors do. 

The doctor gave Alfred a smile. "Hello, sir. My name is Dr. Marlbury, and this is my assistant, Ms. Lakeshaw. How are you feeling?" Alfred wanted to respond, but he realized that his entire body ached, and his pounding headache made him unable to articulate words. They must have noticed his wince of pain, because Dr. Marlbury stated, "Dont worry. We'll send for some medicine to help with the pain." Alfred just nodded slightly. In a raspy voice, he attempted to ask a question that hung in the air. "What...?"

Ms. Lakeshaw spoke up. "Sweetheart, the police department received a call about a fight breaking out between you and one of those pesky street gangs. They sent for us, and we took you here to treat you. You've been here for only about seven hours." She explained as she examined the clipboard she was carrying. "By the way, there seems to be three gentlemen waiting to speak with you." Alfred's eyes widened. "Would you like to see them?" Dr. Marlbury asked. Alfred took a deep breath, mentally cursing himself. He couldn't just tell them all to go away, but they would definitely reprimand him...

Alfred sighed. "Yes.. Bring them in.." He said. The two nodded and left the room, leaving Alfred alone in an eerie silence. He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on staying still to soothe his headache. He wondered what happened to Marilyn. Did she just leave him to get beat? Did someone else happen to walk by, see the men, and call the cops? The feelings of sadness and confusion and anxiety bit at his mind unrelentingly. He was already going through two wars. He really didn't need to fight a third war with himself.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door opening, and a few pairs of shoes moving towards his bedside. Francis and Matthew looked worried to death, and they smiled happily at the sight of Alfred. Arthur looked pissed off. Alfred mentally prepared himself for the long lecture he was about to receive. "Alfred F. Jones," England growled in a tone that reminded Alfred of when he was a colony, and Arthur would reprimand him for breaking something. "What the hell were you thinking, you unreasonable twat! Getting into a street fight? I thought I raised you better than that!" He said, crossing his arms. Alfred fought the urge to groan.

"Oh, England! Would you please put aside your rediculous rants for a while? Clearly, dear _Amérique_ needs quietness and soothing words to cheer him up!" France retorted. England sent him a glare, but France just turned his attention to America. "Hello, Alfred. How are you faring, _Mon Cher_?" He cooed, a supporting hand resting on his shoulder. Alfred smiled. "Im fine. Just.. hurting." He said simply. Canada squeezed Alfred's other shoulder. "You really had us all worried, eh. We received a call from the hospital telling us about the fight and we came over as soon as possible. You're lucky there's a meeting in a few days and we were all already in the area." 

"How did they even know your numbers?" Alfred asked, looking from Canada, to France, to England, and back. Canada shrugged. "We're guessing they found your phone and dialed the first contact numbers they found on the phone records." Alfred hummed in understanding. "We haven't heard many details, Al. What happened?" Matthew asked softly. Alfred was silent for a few moments, but reluctantly began to recall what happened. He explained he and Marilyn's station in New York to raise money for troops in Korea, receiving a large donation, walking towards the cafe, and finally getting attacked by the gang. Retelling the memories made Alfred feel a pain in his heart, like it physically hurt to talk about the incident. 

When he finished, they all just sat there, unsure of what to say. Finally, Arthur sighed. "Sounds like you've had quite an eventful day, lad." Alfred wasn't sure what to say in response, so he just nodded. "What about that Marilyn girl? Why isnt she here? Where is she?" Matthew asked. Alfred was about to respond with 'I dont know' when France interrupted. "Oh, forget about that!" He shouted, his eyes sparkling. "Our dear _Amérique_ is seeing a special someone!" He shouted happily, throwing his arms around Alfred in a proud embrace.

"Ow!" "Sorry, sorry!"

England glared at France, pulling him off of America. "Oh shut it, frog! Alfred got beaten up by a gang and all you can focus on is  _romance?_ " He growled. France smirked at England. "Just because you cant find anybody willing to sleep with you doesnt mean you have to bring your attitude to other's successful love lives." He said haughtily. "Why you little-!" Canada grabbed Arthur's shoulder. "Stop it guys! There are other things we should be focusing on instead of arguing about our love lives." He said. America blushed heavily. "Guys, we arent even dating! We're just friends!" He said, but France just smiled more. "For now!" He said before bursting into giggles. 

Alfred was about to tell France to shut his mouth, but the door suddenly opened once more, and everyone turned their attention to Ms. Lakeshaw as she entered awkwardly. She coughed. "Uhm, sir. There's someone who wishes to see you. A young lady, to be precise."

France squealed in delight, and Alfred gulped nervously. Canada turned and grabbed England's and France's wrists, pulling them from their seats at Alfred's bedside. "O-Oh, we were just leaving! Come on guys, lets go and get something to eat." He said, dragging them from the room. Alfred silently thanked Matthew as they quickly left the room. Francis' pouted as he left the room, and Alfred could hear his disappointment of leaving being stated as they left down the hall. 

Ms. Lakeshaw turned to Alfred. "Shall I bring the young lady in, mister?" Alfred tried to give her a smile. "Y-Yeah, go ahead." Ms. Lakeshaw nodded, turned, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Alfred was once again left in silence.


	16. Forged in Fire

1950

When the door opened, Alfred was staring at the ceiling, focused on nothing in particular. Marilyn had opened the door rather silently, as she figured he was in pain and wouldn't enjoy loud noises. She stepped into the room slowly, and softly closed the door behind her.

"Alfred?" She asked, and Alfred jumped slightly, his eyes whipping in her direction. When he realized who was standing there, he physically relaxed. But even so, his eyes still held a bit of stress or anxiety or something of that nature. It was as if he was nervous about something, or something had been on his mind lately that he now had to address. Marilyn wasn't sure what exactly could be upsetting him, but the level of stress in his eyes and posture was beginning to make her increasingly nervous as well.

"O-Oh, Marilyn. I'm glad that you're alright." Alfred said steadily, his voice hiding his emotions like a wall. She nodded slightly and moved over to his bedside, seating herself in one of the uncomfortable chairs. "Alfred, how do you feel? Do you need anything?" She asked him, laying a hand on his forearm.

Alfred looked down at his bedsheets. "No," he sighed. "I just have a slight headache and my body aches all over. But I guess it'll go away soon. What about you?" He asked her then. Marilyn's cheeks colored slightly. "Oh, I'm alright. Honest. But, I probably wouldn't be if it weren't for your help. Thank you so much for doing what you did. No ones ever done that for me before.." She said shyly, turning away to look at anything but Alfred.

Alfred's lips quirked into a smile. "Hey, I just did what any good friend would've done. But..." He trailed off. His eyes told Marilyn that this was what made him stress and worry. "Marilyn, what happened after you.. Ran off?" He said. His voice sounded particularly pained. 

Marilyn was silent. "A-Alfred... I.. You didn't think that I..? That I would just..? O-Oh, I'm so sorry! Alfred..." Marilyn clutched her hands tightly in her lap. Alfred looked up at her. "Marilyn..?" 

"After I ran off, I located a small coffee shop where I ran for cover in case any of those guys tried to follow me. Then, I called the police as quickly as I could and directed them to your location. When I saw the police cars go by, I hurried back over to where you were. The police informed me that the boys scurried as soon as they saw the cop cars, and they couldn't catch them. They did manage to take the men you knocked unconscious into custody, though."

"They offered to let me ride in the ambulance with you when the paramedics arrived, but I declined. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing you when you were so beaten and bloody til' you were black and blue. So, after the ambulance arrived and you were taken to the hospital, I gave a statement to the police and then hurried over to my car and followed you to the hospital." Marilyn recalled. She wasn't able to look Alfred fully in the eyes. Alfred wasn't sure what to say to her, but he felt the uncomfortable feeling in his gut dissipate at her words. 

"....Thank you.." Alfred said. "You saved me back there. I.. I wasn't sure if you'd run off to get help or.." He trailed off. But Marilyn grabbed his hand firmly, making Alfred blush for what felt like the millionth time that day. "You're my friend, Alfred. I'll always help you, no matter what." She said shyly, trying to look him in the eye but failing. Instead, she was glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, her face turned slightly away. 

Alfred felt a smile grow on his face, despite his attempts to keep a straight face. They sat there, not really knowing what to do. 

Alfred was then struck by a realization: how close they seemed to be. But not in their friendship. Marilyn's face seemed to be rather close to Alfred's in that moment. Alfred thought about leaning away, or saying something to deter the girl, but found that he was frozen. He could do nothing but stare at her, looking deep into her light blue eyes as she was looking into his. A new feeling was growing in his gut, but it wasn't the anxiety he had felt so overwhelmingly before. This feeling had similar qualities, but contained a hint of something new. It was the same feeling he got when the new fighter jets were deployed in World War 2. Or when Mattie had a new scary story to tell when they would go camping. Or when Alfred would stand nearby and watch as a new president took the oath of office while thousands of Americans cheered merrily below.

It was excitement, he knew. Happiness. Contentment. And it has been a long while since he realized why. He knew he felt something for Marilyn. They had known eachother for four years now. They had talked and figured out things about eachother, and Alfred had been fascinated by her life. How she'd spent her childhood in various foster homes. How she had looked up at Hollywood studio, and dreamed of becoming one of the big stars she'd seen in pictures on the big screen. 

Marilyn was closer now. Their noses were nearly touching. Marilyn seemed to be lost in thought, but she sat steadily, and was inching her way closer and closer and  _closer._ And now their lips were so close, it was driving Alfred near mad. It felt like only centimeters were between them now. Alfred knew it probably wasn't a good idea, that something wasn't right here. But at that moment, he couldn't care less. He was just about to lean forward and close the distance between them. Seal everything. Make official whatever there was to make official between them. 

A knock at the door ended everything. 

Marilyn jumped back so quickly she nearly knocked her chair over and fallen to the floor. She had regained focus on reality, no longer lost in whatever thoughts she was thinking. Her face looked so red that Alfred feared for a moment that she would burst into flames at any second. Though he couldn't deny that his own face was probably no better. 

Marilyn quickly got up and walked to the door, attempting to compose herself. She opened it, and Dr. Marlbury walked in, clipboard in hand. Alfred had never felt more inclined to break the clipboard over his head than in that moment.

"Ah, Mr. Jones. I apologize, I didn't think you still had guests around." He said, not having a clue about the moment he destroyed, and seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness and tension in the air. "I just wanted to let you know that you will be free to go home tomorrow morning after you've gotten a bit more rest."


	17. Reminiscing Reality

 

September 8th, 1951

 

Ivan slammed his hands on Alfred's desk so suddenly that Alfred nearly jumped in surprise. However, such a reaction was to be expected.

"United States, don't you see how idiotic you're being? You've been acting differently recently and the  _entire world_ has taken notice." The USSR growled. Alfred just glared back. "Shut your face, commie! Stay out of my personal life before I knock your teeth into your throat!" Alfred threatened, leaning forward boldly. 

Ivan stopped. Then he smirked. Alfred would've paled a bit had he not been fighting the urge to. "Oh, Fredka. I never said this was about your personal life, now did I?" He said smoothly, his eyes shining with what Alfred could only describe as mischief. Alfred said nothing, already having registered that he'd made a huge mistake. Instead, he settled for glaring harder.

Ivan's smirk only widened. "Ah, I see now, Fredka-" "Don't call me that!" "-So, how about you tell USSR what's happening? You know I don't get many chances to talk about such things." Ivan said, leaning calmly back into his chair arrogantly. Alfred bristled. 

"Fuck off! I don't have  _anything_ to say to you, bastard!" The USSR was unphased by the comment. "Oh please. If this is affecting international events and relations, then we, especially me, have a right to know." Alfred scoffed. "Bullshit! How is my personal life affecting international relations?" 

Ivan stared Alfred in the eyes. "America, you've been acting differently for a few months now. You've been more distant, and nations are starting to realize it. I even called your boss earlier-" "What!" "-And he informed me, albeit reluctantly, that you've even been turning in your work early. Canada and England have claimed that you haven't been around them as often as you used to. That in and of itself is one thing. If this behavior goes on for much longer, then other nations will start to get interested. And I don't think you need more attention right now, what with Vietnam going on..."

Alfred clenched his teeth at the mention of Vietnam. After the disasterous fund raiser attempt for the troops (although they did raise a lot of money), he hadn't tried any more of them. Mostly because he was busy dealing with all of the Cold War drama. But he realized now why not many people had donated at all when he and Marilyn held that fundraiser. New propaganda had been released. Photographs of suffering children in Vietnam covered countless newspapers. And they enraged the country. To their eyes, the soldiers were doing nothing good, and ignoring starving and dying children as they rushed into another battlefield. 

Resentment against the war was rising quickly. He had even heard of public spectacles where mobs would beat returning soldiers just for doing their job. These stories hurt Alfred deeply, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it. 

"Ivan, I really don't have time to deal with this today, okay? Just get out." Alfred said, standing quickly from his seat. Ivan rolled his eyes, but stood as well. For a moment, they looked at each other. Their eyes both held stony calmness that masked the fury and fear that boiled in their guts. 

After a moment, Ivan moved to stand in front of the door. As he opened it, he turned back to Alfred. "Don't think I don't know about that girl, Fredka. And don't think you're going to beat me." He said before turning and striding out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Alfred felt his stomach drop at the mention of "the girl." Ivan knew. How did Ivan know? How could anybody but Arthur possibly know? There's no away Arthur would've told anybody about he and Marilyn. Frustrated, Alfred fell back down into his chair, sighing deeply and laying his head in his arms on the desk.

He felt alone in the quietness. There seemed to be no one available right now. All of his states were with their own leaders, working out solutions to internal affairs. Canada and England were both focusing heavily on keeping their economies stable, as most of the world was doing. Marilyn had flown back to California to focus on her acting career. A few months ago, she told him that she was working on a picture called "Love Nest." Over the months, they'd conversed over the telephone about how her day in the studio had been thus far, and when she could come back to New York to visit again. 

Her career had started to really get going for her, it seemed. Before starting on "Love Nest," she had presented an Oscar at the Academy Awards ceremony, and Alfred made sure to tune in on time to watch. 

Alfred looked up, and scanned his desk boredly. Papers were scattered across the area, as were pencils and pens and other utensils. However, under one of the stacks of papers was a magazine, which Alfred carefully pulled out. It was a brand new edition of Colier's Magazine. Inside of it was Marilyn's first full-length feature. Alfred had read it with gusto after Marilyn excitedly informed him of the Magazine's release today. 

He found a smile coming across his face and he scanned the article once again. He had been thinking a lot recently. No matter what he did, he couldn't forget about what happened a few months ago in the hospital. He and Marilyn hadn't seen each other face to face since a few days after the incident, and it was only when Alfred came to say goodbye as she headed to California. But just thinking about the incident made Alfred's face turn red all over. But there was no denying it. He and Marilyn had almost kissed. And saying so in his head made Alfred's heart skip a beat and made a sensation rush down his spine. 

After a lot of thinking, Alfred had decided to man up and finally do something about it. He was tired of hiding his feelings for Marilyn, which seemed to be growing each day. He couldn't deny that she was gorgeous, but there was something else about her. Something that reminded him of his Amelia, and yet made the two girls completely different. Either way, Alfred wanted to do something. Something big. 

He had been considering asking her on a date for a while, even before the disasterous fund raiser occurred. But he never knew if she returned his feelings. But after seeing what nearly happened in the hospital, Alfred wondered if he had a shot. 

But, if he was going to do this, there was still something important he had to do. He needed to make a very important phone call.


	18. The Talk

 

September 16th, 1951

 

When Alfred finally found time to talk to Virginia, he didn't think he would be as nervous as he was.

He'd spent a few days thinking about his plan, and what he would say to her to convince her. After all, he had made a vow to her that he would never get into a relationship with Marilyn. But things had changed. He just hoped he could make Virginia understand that. 

He had decided that he should talk to Virginia in person instead of calling her. He figured that talking face to face would show Virginia that he was serious, and that he wanted to compromise with her. He'd called Virginia and scheduled a meetup with her. They were to meet at a small diner they both liked, and he could talk with her there. 

On the day of the meeting, Alfred felt more nervous than he expected. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this talk was more important than he let on. After all, if he got Virginia to consent to his plan of taking things a step further with Marilyn, then it meant that Alfred could possibly have a new  _girlfriend._

'Girlfriend.' The word felt both foreign and familiar on his lips, and thinking about the word sent a pang of emotion into Alfred's heart. He hadn't had many lovers in the past. In fact, he'd only had around two. The first was a girl he'd met during his Revolution, and it hadn't lasted very long anyways. The second, of course, had been his dear Amelia, who'd died not so many years ago now.

When Alfred thought about Amelia, he still missed her, and loved her, and desired her all the more. However, he found himself thinking of her less and less lately. He supposed that it was the natural process of mourning: you cry and resent the loss, and then you simply forget about it over time. He'd mentioned this to Mattie once, but the knowing smile he'd given Alfred merely confused him.

 _"Mon Dieu, frére_ ," Matthew said, smiling warmly at him. "You've got it so bad!" When Alfred asked him to clarify what he'd meant, Matthew merely shook his head, chuckling slightly, and took a sip of his coffee. 

Alfred was now sitting in a booth of the small diner, fiddling with his straw as he waited for Virginia. It was a beautiful, warm day in the City, probably even more beautiful than Hollywood right now, where Marilyn was most likely busy on set. As he stared out a window, another figure suddenly plopped into the seat across from him in the booth. Alfred looked up to see Virginia sitting there, a small smile on her face. She was dressed in a simple dark green dress with a belt around her waist. Alfred smiled at her.

"Hey, Dad.." She said. Alfred knew that Virginia understood that something serious was about to happen, and a flicker of nervousness appeared in her eyes. And for the millionth time, Alfred admired how grown up she looked. He remembered holding her as an infant, and how her little hand tried to grab at Alfred's finger but failed to fit all the way around. "Hello, Elizabeth." Now Virginia looked scared.

"Okay, what's going on? You never use my human name, and this diner is near empty right now." She said. Alfred sighed. Might as well get to the point of this meet up. "I need to talk to you about something. It's really important and it's time we had this talk." Alfred reached across, holding Virginia's hands in his. The girl nodded slowly, worry consuming her posture. 

"Do you remember... When I made that vow to you? About getting into relationships?" Virginia's eyes widened in realization of what he was talking about, and then seemed to widen even further in another realization. "W-What.. Why.. D-Do you.. You... What?" She stammered, pulling her hands from Alfred's to cover her mouth. "Dad... Don't tell me you... That you.." She was scarcely able to complete a sentence. Alfred felt guilty for having surprised her so much and broken his promise. The fact that Alfred didn't answer her question was all Virginia needed to clarify her suspicions.

She looked down at the table. "Why didn't you tell me?" Alfred bit his lip. "I'm sorry. I really am. I tried to keep this promise, Ginny, I really did. I wanted to tell you, but I was scared of how you'd react." He said honestly. Virginia was silent. 

"Look, I know that you don't want another mother figure, and that the last time it happened, things went horribly. But things have changed. And it's time to move on. I don't want any of you guys to be without such an important figure in your lives as a mother. And especially, I don't want that for myself. I'd love to meet someone special and marry them one day, and not be alone in my life. Please just understand that I want what's best for us, and we can't be happy until we move on from the past." 

Virginia stared at Alfred, unshed tears brimming behind her eyes. Before he knew it, Virginia had reached over and thrown her arms around Alfred, crying softly into his chest. Alfred responded quickly, comforting his daughter and trying not to shed tears of his own. He wasn't sure what to say to her, so he just held her, albeit awkwardly.

"I-It's just so... hard!" Virginia wept, not caring that they were in public. "I know, Ginny, I know. It's hard, but believe me when I tell you that things will get better from here on out." He said softly. "I promise." Virginia furiously wiped at her eyes and took breaths, attempting to calm herself down. She leaned back into her seat, taking her napkin and dabbing at her eyes. Eventually, she calmed down enough that Alfred decided to ask what he had been wanting to. 

"Darling, I don't want to keep living by a promise that I can't keep. I want to ask you.... Can we put an end to this vow?" Alfred said quietly. In the silence that followed,  he found himself holding his breath in anticipation. Would she understand? Would she want to keep this deal going? 

Virginia looked up at Alfred, sadness evident in her eyes. Alfred knew that this was hard for her, and that she must feel as though Alfred wanted to get rid of and avoid the past, although that was anything but true. Still, she held herself together bravely. She bit her lip, and whispered, "I don't know." Alfred felt anxiety and desperation creep into him, but tried to force it down. "Virginia, I want to make a compromise with you." He said. Virginia said nothing, but he could tell that this peeked her interest. Alfred took a breath before making his proposition known. "We can end this vow, and I attempt to take things a step forward with Marilyn. If the relationship doesn't work out, then I won't go after other girls. I'll keep to myself." Alfred's heart ached as he set forth his compromise.  _Please God, let me be doing the right thing,_ Alfred silently prayed. Virginia looked at him, a bit of shock in his eyes. "You'd...  _seriously_ be willing to end all future relationships for this one?" She asked, completely bewildered. Alfred understood her reaction; it probably wasn't even a good move on his part. 

Alfred looked Virginia in the eyes. "Ginny.. I don't understand it, but Marilyn is different from other girls i've known. I can attempt to ignore her and not speak with her, but, my God, she finds away into my mind everytime. It's as if something is going on here that I can't quite understand, but I feel like if I try to avoid it, i'll regret it for the rest of my life." Virginia gave Alfred a meaningful look, as if she couldn't believe such words had come from his mouth. To be honest, Alfred was wondering the same thing. "....You must really like her," Virginia stated in awe. Alfred didn't respond. After a few moments, Virginia sighed and looked down at the table. "You're right. I'm sorry. I was being selfish. I guess I could maybe... give this thing a try."

Alfred could've sworn his heart skipped many beats in that moment, and he could see a future in his eyes. A future that was bright and hopeful, and filled with love. "Oh, Virginia! I-" "Just promise me one thing, dad." She said suddenly, looking deep into Alfred to make sure he was being truthful. America hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slowly. "Er, yes, of course. What is it, dear?" Virginia looked as though she meant to speak, but then a wave of anguish made her stop. She looked as though she would cry again. "Just promise me that you won't forget. Please." 

He knew what she meant. She feared that he would forget about Amelia, with whom he'd had so many memories. And perhaps, he could cause history to repeat. But it wouldn't happen. Alfred wouldn't let it happen. He couldn't bear the thought that Marilyn would suffer a similar fate to Amelia. He felt as though Marilyn understood him in a way that no one ever really had before. She listened to him when they talked, and she related to him in ways he never thought possible. 

He never thought he'd be able to admit it before. He never thought he'd be in this situation ever again after the loss of Amelia. But now, Alfred wondered if it could actually be true. If he could actually be falling for Marilyn Monroe. But it must be true, if Alfred was willing to go through all of this just to ask her on a date.

Alfred smiled. "I would never even think about forgetting, Ginny." He said. Virginia laughed softly, despite herself. Then she nodded. "Alright then... I wish you luck." She said. Alfred chuckled. "Thank you. I'll have to introduce you two at some point. I think you'll get along greatly." Alfred said, perusing the menu. 

Virginia sighed. "Now I only wonder how I could possibly explain this to West and Cali." Alfred smiled at her amusedly. "Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out."


	19. The Moment of Truth

 

1952

Alfred kept his breathing steady as he drove through the quiet avenues and streets, on his way to Marilyn's temporary home in an apartment complex while she worked on her latest picture. Since September of 1951, Alfred had waited for Marilyn to find some free time to visit him again in New York. However, two things happened: One, Marilyn called him one time and told him that she wasn't available at any foreseeable point (in which Alfred decided that the deadline to ask Marilyn out would be March), and Two, Alfred received a call from his boss, Mr. Truman. He said that Alfred was needed at the White House to help him with paperwork and international relations due to the Cold War. 

Alfred had informed his boss that he would be heading to Washington DC shortly after March, as soon as he took care of something important. His boss wasn't happy with the lateness of the date, but begrudgingly agreed, telling Alfred to hurry to DC as soon as possible. Now it was nearly time to head to Washington, where his president was waiting for him. There was already a private airplane waiting outside of the Los Angeles airport to take Alfred from California and all the way to DC. 

Marilyn's unassuming apartment complex came into view, and Alfred's heartbeat increased as he drove towards it and pulled into the parking lot. He found a space near the front entrance of the building and recalled the number that Marilyn gave him when he told her that he could visit her instead. 

_'Remember, it's room 07. It's on ground level, too, so you can't miss it. All you have to do is knock.'_

Alfred looked over to the passenger seat, where a bouquet of multicolored flowers sat. He nervously picked up the bouquet and left his car. He wandered over to the complex and began walking around it, reading the numbers on the doors until he finally arrived in front of room 07. It looked no different than any other plain white door around it, and it had the room number printed in gold cursive script above the door. Two windows surrounded both sides of the door, and Alfred could already see a pot of red roses placed on the sill of the right window. 

He knocked on the door a few times and then hid the bouquet behind his back. Might as well make it a surprise. Within a few moments, the door swung open and Alfred's breath caught in his throat. Marilyn was wearing a light pink dress with a ruffled top, and the skirt of the dress bloomed out from her waist down to her knees. Around her waist was a thick pink ribbon, which accentuated her waist perfectly. It even had a small pink rose on it. A pearl necklace decorated her neck and pink flats covered her feet. To complete the look, Marilyn had a large pink bow towards the back of her head, which held up a lot of her blonde curls. It was one of the most beautiful outfits Alfred had seen on her. 

Marilyn gasped and threw her arms around him, and Alfred wrapped an arm around her waist. "Alfred! How nice to finally see you again!" Marilyn said brightly. "I have great news!" Alfred smiled at her. "Good, because there's something I need to ask you." He subconsciously tightened his grip on the bouquet. 

Marilyn smiled. "Can I tell you first? It's very big news and I've been wanting to tell you for awhile, but I've kept it a surprise." Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. He didn't see any harm in letting her go first. At least he had another few moments to prepare himself for his question when the time came. Alfred gave in, and nodded slowly. Marilyn's smile grew. "Thank you! Oh, would you like to come in?" Alfred felt bad for shaking his head. "I'd love to, but I'm kind of in a hurry. I've got to catch a flight in a few minutes now, so.." He trailed off. Marilyn looked slightly disappointed, but continued. 

"Alright, so you know that famous baseball player, Joe DiMaggio?" She asked excitedly. Alfred was confused. Joe DiMaggio? Baseball? Of course he knew who Joe was, but why was this so important to Marilyn? "Uh, yeah." Alfred said blankly. Marilyn merely giggled. "Well, we met up a few nights ago, and... It turns out we have a lot in common. I've decided to give him a chance. We're dating now!" She said merrily. 

And that was when time stopped for Alfred. He could only stare at her, his brain unable to form coherent thoughts or words. And as he stared into Marilyn's overwhelmingly happy eyes, he felt his heart shatter in his chest. Dating...? He felt a wave of emotion overcome him, and he didn't know whether to laugh and congratulate Marilyn, or cry in despair. Jealousy bit at the shards of his heart like a serpent as he stared into the eyes of the woman he could've called his. 

Apparently he was silent for a while, because Marilyn's voice cut into his thoughts. "Al? Are you okay? What's wrong?" She asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Alfred shook his head again, forcing words from his mouth. "A-Ah, I'm sorry. Nothing's wrong, Mary, I'm just.. Shocked, that's all! But, I'm glad for you." He said with a fake smile carved into his face. He was a good actor, and Marilyn bought it, relaxing physically. "Oh, that's grand! Thank you so much for being so understanding and kind to me. How could I ever thank you?" She said, hugging Alfred again. 

_'You could thank me by being mine...'_

Marilyn pulled away and looked back into Alfred's eyes. "So, what did you want to ask me?" 

Alfred then remembered that he was supposed to ask Marilyn on a date. Well, obviously he couldn't now. "Er, I just, well, I just wanted to ask you if... Maybe you'd like to join me eventually for a trip to Miami soon? I'm going with some other friends and it would be nice if you could join us." He lied. 

Marilyn beamed at him. "Ooh, a trip? It sounds relaxing! Count me in. You can send me the information later, but I'm sure you've got a flight to catch." She said. Alfred nodded. "I wish you the best of luck on your relationship." Alfred said. Marilyn thanked him and walked back into her apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. Alfred was left standing on the porch alone and desperately trying to hold his emotions together. With a sigh, and turned and slowly walked back towards his car, glaring down at the bouquet in his hands. 

Alfred wished that, on the drive to the airport, he hadn't cried and not bothered to wipe away the tears, or threw the bouquet as hard as he could at a coursing river outside the airport. But the truth was that all of that had happened, and that he'd cried all the harder when he went back to his car to park at the airport, only to discover a single, solitary flower resting where the bouquet used to be. 

Truman decided to be respectful and stay silent when he saw Alfred's red-rimmed eyes and melancholy silence throughout their meetings. 


	20. Birthday Bonanza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the reason this chapter wasn't released for a long time was because this is a special Valentine's Day chapter! The chapter itself was finished about a week before Valentine's. Fear not, for I have not given up hope on this story! 
> 
> Because this is the special Valentine's Day chapter, this one is pleasantly lengthy, so hopefully that will be a plus for all of you who enjoy the story. I can't say much, but I promise you that big things will start to unfold within the next few chapters!

 

 

June 1st, 1952

 

 "So, what do you wish for, Marilyn?" One of Alfred's friends, Jack, asked from his place next to Alfred. 

After Alfred lied about a massive trip to Miami with his friends, he'd spent weeks furiously scheduling rooms at a resort in Miami and calling up some of his best friends (most of whom were politicians). He'd even invited Canada and England on the trip. (Canada and England both knew about what happened with Marilyn. He'd informed them about the incident a few days after it happened. Both consoled him as best they could, even though he knew that was he had attempted to do was taboo for the nations.) Both nations eventually agreed to come along, and also invited some of their own friends. 

The list of attendees eventually grew to a pretty large size (Marilyn was inviting Joe and the Greenes as well), so Alfred decided to try a new idea. All of the attendees would catch flights to Miami and room in at the resort Alfred pretty much rented an entire floor from, and they would board a cruise that was to sail all around the Florida coast. It was all pretty glamorous (and put a significant dent in Alfred's wallet), but Alfred would never agree to such torturous planning ever again. It was hard enough planning out so many things, but it was even harder when you're trying to get over a failed attempt at asking your crush on a date. Alfred was upset for many weeks, but now it felt as if he was finally getting back on his feet. 

And so, that's how Alfred found himself standing on board of a cruise ship around midnight in the middle of a birthday party in honor of Marilyn Monroe, a rising actress in Hollywood. Countless partygoers were gathered around a massive table, the lights were dimmed and music still blared from the speakers and bartenders were quickly pouring more glasses of alcohol to give to their customers. Streamers and lights were strung all over the large, rented party room in the ship, and a large white cake sat in front of where Marilyn stood. She looked at Jack and smiled gleefully. "Jack, if I told you what I wished for, it wouldn't come true." She chastised, and giggles erupted from the crowd around her. Joe, dressed in a fine black suit, squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek, chuckling slightly. Alfred made sure to smile largely, even though he felt like punching something at the sight. 

Marilyn was dressed in a festive red dress. The dress was strapless and showed an interesting amount of her cleavage, which Alfred found himself trying not to stare at. The dress was tight, and her small waist and wide, curving hips were barely left to the imagination. It even accentuated her breasts in all the right places. The dress traveled down in a mermaid tail style. Red, elbow length satin gloves covered her arms, and her hair was styled in its usual curls. She was informed that one of the days the cruise would be sailing on was her birthday, so she managed to pack a birthday dress and accessories. 

Marilyn smiled knowingly. "However, I can tell you one thing." She paused for dramatic effect, and it worked. Everyone had their gazes resting intently on her, waiting to hear what she had to say. "My wish has already come true." She said, turning to smile at Joe, who smiled back at her. There were many 'aww's from the audience, and Marilyn laughed heartily. "Well, what are we standing around here for? Let's get some cake!" She called to the chefs and caters who were helping run the party, and cheers erupted from the partygoers as a large line formed around the large cake and other people decided to dance for a while longer before eating. Alfred was one of the first in line to get cake, and after getting a slice, he wandered back over to one side of the large room, where many tables were set up, and sat down at his table.

After a few minutes of eating cake and watching people swing eachother around on the dance floor, someone sat in a seat next to him. Alfred looked to see Canada there, setting his plate of cake on the table. "So, how's the party?" Alfred asked him. Canada smiled at him. "Well, it's not as crazy as I expected from you, eh. So that's a pretty good sign." Alfred chuckled. "C'mon, I'm not always wild and crazy!" Alfred insisted, but Canada just shook his head. There was a bit of silence as the two brothers surveyed the people dancing to the music. Some of his friends were attempting to flirt with some girls by the bar. He could see England chatting with a particularly fancily dressed man and lady, while some politicians he knew were discussing fervently amongst eachother. 

And he saw Marilyn, or 'Mary,' as he'd taken to calling her. She was dancing with Joe on the dance floor, laughing and chattering with him and she and him moved dramatically, not caring to follow the rhythm of the music and instead following their own ridiculous dance moves. Perhaps Alfred stared too long, because Mattie was then resting his hand on his shoulder in a show of comfort, and giving him a sorrowful look. "Hey," he said. "I'm sorry about what happened. I know these things can be hard." He spoke softly. Alfred couldn't find anything to say. "....How about we go and dance for a bit, huh?" Alfred suddenly said, trying to change the subject as he got up from his seat. Matthew looked at him. "Uh, okay?" He said as he got up and followed Alfred. 

The two walked around in search of partners to ask. Matthew suddenly gasped and subtly pointed to a woman with dark brown hair dressed in a purple satin dress. "I'm gonna go ask her! Find me when you find a partner and we'll have a group dance maybe." Matthew challenged him, before quickly moving to the girl. Alfred laughed to himself, completely unamused. That's what happens when you let France raise someone, he thought. He then looked around the room in search of a good partner. Although, of course, there was only one girl Alfred wanted to dance with at the moment. And he couldn't help but find her once more in the crowd. Now, she was standing on the side of the dance floor, a glass of wine in her ivory hand. Confused, but unwilling to let such an opportunity slip away, he approached her. 

She saw him coming, and her face brightened when she did. She set her drink down on a nearby table and took a few steps towards him as he made his way towards her. When he stopped, they were facing each other and Alfred couldn't see anyone else except for her. He smiled. "So, how's the party, birthday girl?" She giggled. "It's wonderful. Thank you so much for inviting me along for this, this whole journey has been spectacular. I really needed the break. Especially since I'll be real busy from now on it seems." Alfred raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She looked away for a moment, then looked back. She bit her lip. Then smiled cunningly. "I have a major role in an upcoming picture. 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes' it's called. I am to play Lorelei Lee." Alfred gasped. "Mary, that's great!" He cried before hugging her tightly. She reciprocated eagerly. 

When he pulled away, he realized something. "You should be celebrating this, too. Where's Joe? Does he know?" He questioned. She nodded. "Yes, he knows. And he decided to take a little break for now, so he won't be dancing." Alfred was silent, seriously debating whether or not to do what he was thinking. "Well... Maybe you can celebrate with me then?" He offered her, gesturing to the dance floor. Marilyn smirked at him. "And just how long have you been planning on asking me, huh?" She teased. Alfred blushed and stuttered, but Marilyn grabbed his arm and walked him over to the dance floor. He quickly regained his composure, and the two took formation as a new song came on. It was a moderate tempo, perfect for dancing. Alfred and Marilyn began to move to the rhythm, Marilyn's hands around Alfred's shoulders and Alfred's hands around Marilyn's waist. They moved around the floor as if their mind had taken over them, and they didn't care who saw. He spun her two times, and the red fabric swayed like a breeze as she moved back against his chest. Alfred was vaguely aware of a large circle being carved out around them, making it just them alone dancing and everyone else acting as spectators, cheering them on. 

But still, all he could see were Marilyn Monroe's eyes on his, and he was lost in his own little world. A particularly slow part of the song came, and she was held close to his chest, their faces a tad too close for comfort, especially with Marilyn's boyfriend watching from somewhere. The crowd surrounding them was fairly thick, so hopefully Joe wasn't able to see the spectacle quickly unfolding. However, he did know that Mattie and Arthur were amongst the crowd, and he could see them out of the corner of his eye. They were grinning like cheshire cats, and Mattie was even going along with the cheering, while Arthur preferred to just do some polite clapping like other more dignified guests. They were  _never_ going to let Alfred forget this night. But still, as the held Marilyn and they glided across the dance floor, he couldn't focus on Arthur and Mattie. He spoke suspiciously, "How do you know how to dance so well?" 

Marilyn gave him a small smile. "You learn some things when you work on a movie set. What about you, Romeo? You seem more talented than you let on..." She winked at him, and Alfred could've sworn his face looked like an apple from how red it was. She must have taken a little bit too much wine before they started dancing. Luckily, it came time for another few spins, and Marilyn could be temporarily distracted as Alfred grabbed her hand and spun her around.

Afterwards, Alfred quickly gave a vague answer. "Ah, well, I have politicians as friends. You kind of pick things up, too." He said. "Oh! So you work with the government..?" She asked him, a bit shocked. Alfred felt kind of bad that she knew so little about his actual life. He wanted to tell her, but he knew it wasn't a good idea. He may have a bit of a crush on her, but he couldn't yet trust her with information regarding the nations. Still, he'd been trying better to tell Marilyn more about himself lately. She knew about a lot of his interests, like food and airplanes. She was knew that Alfred had three "brothers" named Matthew, Arthur, and Francis. When she asked to meet them, he introduced her to Arthur and Mattie, who greeted her warmly. France was unavailable at the time, but he promised her to introduce her later. He also told her that he had a little sister named Elizabeth. Of course, he couldnt tell her that Virginia was actually his  _daughter,_ because that would just bring on a lot of questions that he couldn't answer. But he wanted them to get to know eachother and become friends, in the hopes that Virginia would be a bit less reluctant to approve of the (not so much) relationship if they did. When he introduced the two girls a few days before the cruise, they seemed to get along nicely. They had even managed to have a long conversation about their favorite actors and actresses, and about Marilyn's increasingly public career. Alfred had never smiled more than he did on that day.

Alfred explained to Marilyn that he was an adviser to the President, and he often got to have some conversations with him. It wasn't  _completely_ true, but it did fit pretty well with the kind of job that nation's have. Marilyn laughed. "You need to introduce us some day. I wouldn't mind being first lady!" Alfred's eyebrows rose, and he gave her an amused smirk. "Well now, I dont think Mr. Truman's wife would take too kindly to competition." Marilyn giggled, and the conversation momentarily ceased until the song ended. Cheers erupted from the audience as they walked off the dancefloor to catch their breath. As they did, the other guests spread out over the dancefloor again to resume their dancing. 

Alfred and Marilyn ended up sitting down by the bar and chatting as they had a few drinks. Joe had met up with some of his friends that he'd invited and they were currently having a discussion about baseball. Marilyn decided to leave them alone for awhile, as baseball was not her favorite topic. Alfred decided to indulge her while she waited, so now the two were talking about the most random things possible as they sipped their wine. "Yes.. I've been feeling quite concerned lately too. I just hope it all dies down soon." Marilyn said when Alfred asked her what she thought of this 'Cold War.' Alfred was about to say something else, when Marilyn cut in. "Alfred, dear, would you mind escorting me to my and Joe's room? Its rather late and I don't trust myself to go by myself after having a few drinks." She said, her voice slightly slurred, either from drunkenness or tiredness, or both. Either way, Alfred agreed and led Marilyn out of the large room and into a quiet hallway. 

The walk through the various hallways was silent, but Alfred figured that she probably wasn't in the mood to have conversation, and just wanted some rest. When they arrived at her door, though, she turned to him once more. "Thank you, Al. What would I do without you?" She smiled. "Nothing good." Alfred teased. She smiled softly at that. She pulled her room key out from a small purse she'd brought and opened the door. She stepped inside, but when Alfred thought she was about to close the door, she turned and did something that shocked Alfred to no end.

She turned to face Alfred, and quickly leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek, probably trying to do so before she changed her mind. It was the first time her lips had felt Alfred's skin, and the first time Alfred felt her lips on him. She blushed as she quickly turned back around and closed the door behind her, leaving Alfred alone in the hallway.

Alfred eventually turned to walk away with a large smile on his face, but suddenly crashed right into something. Stumbling back, he looked up in shock. Standing there, giving him a cold look, was Joe DiMaggio. His look would've made any other man flee. "Hey, man, what do you think you're doing with my girlfriend?" He growled. Alfred didn't know what to say. Joe turned to look at the wall. He seemed to be giving him the benefit of the doubt since they were friends. "Look, I know you two have been good friends for awhile, and I respect that." He continued, "but don't try to make a move on Marilyn. She's mine." Joe looked back up at Alfred. "Got it?" 

Alfred still couldnt find his voice, so he just nodded. Joe then walked past him, pulling out his own key and going into his and Marilyn's room. Alfred was left in what felt like deafening silence. When he eventually made his way back to the party, he couldn't help but touch the cheek that Marilyn had kissed. He knew a small smile still covered his face, and that he needed to stop interacting like this with another man's girlfriend. Any more such interactions could get him into unwanted trouble. However, he knew that, deep inside of himself, there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

 


	21. The Marshal

 

September 2nd, 1952

 

Alfred had to lean in all directions and practically jump to be able to see her.

The crowd surrounding the streets and covering the sidewalks cheered as the parade progressed, but Alfred was barely able to see anything because of how dense the crowd was. It only got worse when the main attraction suddenly turned the corner onto their street and the crowd went crazy. 

Deciding it wasn't worth it, Alfred hurried to the back of the crowd and looked around for a way to view the parade. Spotting a lamp post situated a few yards from a sewing store, he scrambled over to it and placed his right foot onto the base. Pushing himself up, he turned and looked back to where the parade continued, and smiled when he could finally see the one he came to see.

Mary was seated on the rear of a pink automobile, surrounded on both sides by white confetti. The bottom of the car was draped with a white banner which read " **Grand Marshal Marilyn**   **Monroe** " in bold letters. She was ina tight, dark colored dress with such a low neckline that it went down to just above her belly button. A white collar jutted out from the neckline and a belt wrapped securely around her waist. All in all, it was a gorgeous dress, and the massive smile Marilyn gave as she waved to the onlookers only made her shine more. 

This was her first Miss America pageant, he knew, and she had been invited to be its "Grand Marshal," the first woman to ever take up the role. Marilyn accepted the offer, and also used it to promote her latest picture, "Monkey Business," which had also been released in theaters today. He planned to go see it with her when she got done with the parade. But for now, he could enjoy the grand parade as a band began to play a beat from somewhere in front of the procession. For a moment, he could've sworn he saw Marilyn looking at him, but he could never be sure. There was no way she could've seen him through such dense crowds, even if he was raised up rather high. 

Of course, it was really hard to focus on such things when you're being grabbed by security guards and thrown to the floor. "Get off of public property!" They screamed over the yells of the crowd. Alfred screeched right back.

* * *

"So, how was the parade?" 

Alfred looked up at the sudden inquiry. They'd been walking for awhile in total silence, except for a few remarks about all of the excitement of the day. Of course, this was probably due to the rather unexpected encounter with the police. Apparently the police were taking increased measures to protect public property, and Alfred now had a bruise on his arm to prove it. 

"Oh, it was great. You looked spectacular up there, Mary. I swear it! Never seen anything as great in my life!" She flushed pink and scoffed. "Oh please." She said. "There's no way I could've looked that good." He raised an eyebrow at her. "You wanna bet?" She gave Alfred a rather cheeky look. "Well, I don't-" 

"Hey! Are you Marilyn Monroe?" 

They froze. Turning around, they saw a girl rushing towards them, seemingly to greet the starlet and ask for an autograph. Alfred went pale, and noticed that Marilyn's skin wasn't too far off in color than his own. Usually, they wouldn't get so nervous around one fan, but it just so happened that they were on a moderately busy street and she yelled out Marilyn's name loud enough for the whole street to hear. 

Sure enough, Alfred noticed dozens of other faces looking in their direction, with slowly widening eyes and pointing fingers. He gulped. He'd thought that the fading sunlight would help disguise them, as well as a different change of clothes. It was getting to a point where it was almost dark out, and Marilyn had changed from her dark dress to a white polka dot dress and concealed her hair with a matching hat. Apparently it wasn't enough. There were more and more people slowly joining in behind the first girl, and they were approached fairly quickly. 

"We need to go." Alfred stated, grabbing Marilyn's forearm and quickly pulling her off in the direction they were originally heading, which was towards the theater. As they ran down the street, Alfred and Marilyn heard the sounds of some people screaming or cheering, calling Marilyn's name and following after them. The two turned the corner and sprinted towards an alleyway to hide in between a music store and a pizza place. Panting heavily, they pressed themselves against a wall and waited to see if they were safe. 

They heard the sounds of a few people calling out and caught some glimpses of people looking around in confusion, or walking in different directions. However, nobody spotted them. They breathed out in relief when the fans eventually gave up and departed. Slowly, they crept out from their hiding places and looked around to make sure that the coast was clear. 

When they were sure they were safe, they awkwardly resumed their walking, nearing the theater to watch Monkey Business. "...Quite the interesting meetup, huh?" Alfred asked, trying to bring some semblance of normalcy to what just occurred. Marilyn hmm'ed thoughtfully, unsure of what to say. "....Y'know, if these things are gonna happen more often, we should probably find different things to do instead." He joked, softly elbowing her in the side. She smiled a bit this time, glancing over at him. "Yeah, I guess we should." She said finally. The two looked at each other for a moment, until Alfred pulled his gaze away and focused on the theater coming into view.

"What's going on with that other picture you've been talking about lately? I haven't heard much." "Oh, you mean Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?" Marilyn smile got even bigger, and Alfred figured he'd finally found the subject that would re-excite her. "Well, it's not going to be released until late 1953 is what I've heard. But I'm really excited for it to be completed. There's even a special.. Surprise within the film that I take part in, but I can't say anything about it." She said. Alfred immediately regretted asking about the film. He  _hated_ having to wait for surprises once he learned there was one. 

"However, there's another film that's going to be released in January, actually. It's called Niagara, and it's very good. All of the cast are excited to see how the reviews look when it's released. Perhaps you could join me in seeing it when it comes out?" Alfred agreed, but felt a sense of foreboding grow in the back of his mind.

He got the feeling that time was running short for him and Marilyn to do casual stuff like this. Marilyn was becoming more and more noticed everyday. With two movies coming out soon that were expected to be very good, he wondered if they would finally break through the barrier of anonymity for Marilyn's career. As proud as he was of her, he would admit that he wasn't too happy about the idea of not being able to do the simple things with her anymore, like walking down to the café for pies. He just hoped they'd be able to find a way to manage with Marilyn's upcoming fame.

It was even getting to the point that some of the other nations knew who she was. Mattie and Arthur both reported hearing about her through gossip on their streets or in ads in newspapers. He didn't know why, but the thought of her becoming known to other nations kind of frightened him. He still remembered Prussia, France, and Spain's little spying adventure, when they'd spilled the beans to every other nation that "Alfred has a little friend." He wondered if they still remembered that fiasco, and if now they'd finally be able to pin a name to the blonde woman they saw dining with him. Who knows what they'd be able to do with that information!

The duo reached the theater as discreetly as possible, and soon were sitting down in their seats and watching as the movie began. And as they watched Marilyn's scenes play out, he couldn't help but bring up his thoughts about her fame. Yes, perhaps it would be difficult to do some of the things that they usually did with Marilyn's level of fame, but he couldn't help but not care at all as he saw her appear in the scene, saying all of her lines perfectly and acting with a passion he had so rarely seen. Neither heaven nor hell was going to stop him from being with this girl, even if it meant having to find a way to deter Prussia, France, and Spain. 

Little did he know how much his limits would be tested in the years to come. 

 

 


	22. Shadowed

 

January 30, 1953

 

Alfred really hated when he jinxed himself, because whenever he did, it always seemed to make his life miserable in every possible way.

He thought back on when he'd thought that the upcoming films were to make Marilyn a star. Well, he was right. He'd also thought that hanging out with Marilyn would become a lot harder after her stardom was achieved. Well, he was right on  _that_ too. He just didn't realize that it would be of a magnitude quite like this. 'Niagara' was released on the 21st, the world-premiere being on the 28th, and within days it proved to be a smashing hit. So smashing, in fact, that Marilyn quickly became a household name. Anybody who didn't know her name before now knew very well of the sexy blonde-bombshell that was Marilyn Monroe. The 26-year-old starlet was making headlines in countless newspapers and her face was adorning more magazines than she did in her Blue Book modeling days. 

And yes, Alfred was excited to be able to say he was friends with Marilyn Monroe, and proud that she was becoming such a famous star. But again, he worried about the effects this would have on the nations of the world. Especially since they knew that he was hanging out with the same woman who wore a red, clinging, low-cut dazzling red dress and crooned out the song "Kiss." Alfred also expected to hear the phrase, "Get out the fire hose," all too often, the phrase being a line said by Casey Adams at the sight of Marilyn. 

Alfred also knew that he would find himself in quite the pickle once this world meeting started. He'd arrived at the UN building a few minutes ago and already received stares from the nations already there as he made his way towards the elevator and to the meeting room. He subconsciously straightened his suit and adjusted his hold on his brief case as he neared the door. He might as well go down looking decent. He opened the heavy doors and walked into the room. He decided to arrive on time in order to attract as little attention to himself as possible. Needless to say, it didn't work. 

"Hey, look! Lover boy is here!" A loud voice cackled from across the room. Within seconds, Prussia had his arm around Alfred's shoulders and was ruffling his hair with his other hand. "We knew you had a little girlfriend, but why didn't you tell us that she was Marilyn Monroe!? So unawesome to keep this from us, y'know!" America refrained from punching Prussia in the mouth. Instead, he growled out, "Fuck off, Prussia. I don't have time for this." Germany came over and dragged Prussia off of America. "I apologize for that, America. Bruder, please do me and favor and stop looking like a moron." Germany chastised as he pulled a whining Prussia to his seat.

America took a breath and composed himself, slowly making his way to his seat next to England, who was sipping his tea quietly. He placed his brief case on the table before lowering himself into his seat and sighing wearily. England gave him a pitiful look. "You poor, poor sap. You look awful." He said simply. "I know." America said. England decided to change subjects to help America forget his situation. They talked about the latest politics and America's presidents. "This is Truman's last year in office. Who do you think will be the next president?" England asked. "I'm not sure. There is a candidate, though, that seems to attract lots of attention. Name's Dwight D. Eisenhower. I'm interested to see how his campaign goes." England nodded in agreement. 

They spoke for about 30 minutes until all of the nations had assembled. The meeting began as usual, which meant that fights broke out within the first 10 minutes. Luckily, that drew most nation's attentions away from Alfred, but he still received more looks or glances than usual. This continued on until an hour into the meeting, when a break was called by a very frustrated Germany. Nations immediately jumped up and rushed to the exits to go grab something to eat. But Alfred still noticed a few nations making their way towards him. Realizing that he had to get out of there, he jumped up from his seat and made to rush towards the door, but ended up smashing right into Italy as he turned. Stumbling back, America looked up at the oblivious nation. He expected to see Italy cry out something about how amazing pasta was, until he noticed something in the Italian's expression. His usually cheery face was marred with an intenseness and seriousness that he'd never seen before on the nation. He looked at Alfred with many emotions in his eyes, but if he had to pick one, he looked mostly concerned. That alone immediately made Alfred nervous. 

"I-Ita-" "America.. May I.. Talk to you, please..?" Italy asked him, trying to sound as polite as possible. America gulped, but nodded his head. Italy nodded slightly and then turned and made his way from the room, America reluctantly following behind. They walked from the room and past corridors until they arrived at a currently empty meeting room that was usually used by officials. The room was big, with a similar round table as the nations' meeting room. The table was still cluttered with brief cases and papers, and an easel was set up at the front of the room displaying a few charts that detailed information about global banks and stock markets. At the opposite side of the room, a large plush green sofa sat with potted plants on both sides of the expensive-looking furniture. Italy led them over to the couch and sat down, patting the place beside him for America to sit. He did.

"I heard. About you and that girl, I mean." He started. America immediately felt his stomach turn. America sighed. Italy gave him a hard look. "I know I'm not acting like I usually do, but please understand that I'm not always as cheery and oblivious as I seem. I am concerned for you, America. I know we don't usually speak much, but I know that we are allies, and I couldn't help but mention this to you." Italy said awkwardly, looking down and messing with his fingers. America couldn't speak. Italy? How could sweet, innocent, kind, oblivious Italy act so... Off? This must be pretty serious if  _Italy_ was speaking out to him. 

"I just wanted to help you, America. I wanted to warn you. I don't mean to get into your personal life, but I don't think that being with a human girl is good for you." Italy said quietly. America groaned. "Italy, we're not-" 

"Don't even try." 

America froze at his cold words and sat there, stunned. What he wanted to say had been seemingly pulled from his mouth and mind, and left him unable to formulae words. All he could do was stare at Italy in shock as the nation glared at him. "I know that you are not dating her, Alfred. But don't try to tell me that you haven't thought about it. Or even acted on those thoughts-" The memory of attempting to ask Marilyn out arose in his mind, and he felt a bit ashamed and embarrassed that Italy had been able to tell that he'd indeed acted on his thoughts of dating Marilyn. "-You are in love with her, I know. But you don't care to admit it. It is quite obvious with the way you blush when a nation mentions her, or the look in your eyes when you're secretly thinking of her. I've been around for far longer than you have, America. I can tell when someone is in love. Most of us nations can." Italy finished. If America was stunned before, now he was just flabbergasted. He was blushing madly, embarrassed that Italy had been able to read him so clearly, when he'd been sure that he had hidden his emotions very well. 

Italy's look softened at Alfred's defeated look. Alfred looked as if he might cry. "...I'm sorry, Alfred. Truly. I'm just... It's just that I'm tired of you denying something so undeniable as love." He looked away. "I remember when I was in love once. It was such a long time ago, but it still feels like only yesterday." Italy's eyes misted. "He promised me he'd come back.. He promised.." He whispered. America didn't want to impose upon such a personal moment, but he worried that Italy would just start crying all over him. "Italy.. Are you okay?" Italy shook himself out of his thoughts, turning back to Alfred. "Ah-yes, yes I'm sorry about that."

"Anyways, love can be the most wonderful thing you've ever known. But it can also be something that destroys you. I understand that you went through hard times with a girl a few years ago.. What was her name.. Amelia, was it? The pilot you always mentioned?" Alfred's heart lurched at the reminder. "...Yes. That's her." "Then you understand how it can end up." Alfred looked away. "Look, I know I can't prevent you from falling in love with a human. I'm sure that all of us have felt for a human at some point or another. But not once has a romance between a nation and a human ever worked out. You know about it. All of us do. France lost Joan when she was burned at the stake. England lost his queen, Elizabeth. Nations never forget about these things. We take them as warnings for what happens when a nation dares fall in love with a human."

America trembled. "But... Arthur.. How could his relationship not work out? He and Elizabeth were married..." He trailed off. Italy nodded solemnly. "Yes.. As you know, when a human marries a nation, the human becomes partly immortal, like us. They no longer age. If they happen to be older looking, they become what they looked like in their early twenties or so." Alfred nodded slowly. He had heard of this. "Elizabeth and England were happy at first with married life. They took joy in eachother. But as time passed, she became... Distressed. She feared the very idea of living forever. Of never aging. And rightly so. She feared all of the hardships she'd have to face if she remained married to England, and the never ending pain that would follow. She didn't want that. She dreamed of happily ever after. Of there being an ending. But the truth is that nations don't get happily ever afters. Try as we might, we can never be truly happy forever. And so, at her insistance, they were divorced about 10 years after they married."

"She then continued to age, and eventually, she passed away like all humans. England was so broken-hearted, it's rumored that he never got over the divorce, even today. Now, he can barely stand to think of her." Italy reminisced. America felt a pang of sorrow for England, who'd had such a sad history. It was no wonder why it always rained in the lonely island of England.

America wondered if that would be the same fate he'd have if Amelia had lived, and he'd proposed to her. Would she be willing to give up everything? Her career? Her friends and family? Would she have been willing to spend eternity with him? And what about Marilyn? If he were to ever become more to her, would she be willing to spend forever with him? 

"There's a reason that it's taboo for nations to fall in love with humans. Alfred, please don't make the mistakes that we've made. You're so young. There is so much opportunity in your eyes. They are bright. You still have a chance. You still have your innocence. Don't give it away like we did." Alfred finally looked Italy in the eyes, and discovered a sadness so deep, that Alfred was transfixed. In his eyes, Alfred could see the past pains of lost loves, wars, invasions, plunders, famine, death. Such a strong emotion overcame Alfred that he had to look away from Italy. 

"...Okay. Okay, I'll try. I swear I'll try." America whispered, almost to himself. Italy reached out to console Alfred, but Alfred was quickly standing up. "I.. I think that we should head back, now. The meeting should be starting soon." He said quietly, walking quickly towards the door. Italy sat there, silently watching the American go.

Alfred thought over his talk with Italy as he walked back towards the meeting room. He already knew, from the moment the words left his mouth, that it was not a promise he knew he could keep. And he got the strange feeling deep in his chest, that Italy somehow knew it too.

 


	23. Handprints to History

  


 

June 26, 1953

 

"A little crowded, dont'cha think?" 

Mary swatted his arm playfully as they walked towards the Chinese Theater. They were meeting up with Jane Russell,  a co-worker of Marilyn's for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Together, the two stars were going to leave their handprints in the cement at the theater for future generations to come and take notice one day. As they walked down the street and neared the theater, they could see a large crowd of paparazzi and fans gathered to watch the stars leave their handprints. Marilyn smiled brightly. "You know, I used to be able to see the theater from my orphanage. I'd always go down there and put my hands in the handprints of the most famous celebrities, and i'd dream of being like them one day."

"Well, your dream came true. You're one of the most popular stars in Hollywood, and you're only getting more popular." Alfred said. She hummed to herself. They reached the theater and made their way to the handprints area. Marilyn was in a white polka dotted dress and matching white heels. He'd seen her in more classy attire before, but she still looked as beautiful dressed simply as she did decked in jewelry and makeup and ten pound costumes. As they entered the theater and itno a small passage that led outside, they suddenly ran into Jane Russell, who was pacing back and forth in the little room that exited into the open space where the fans and paparazzi were waiting. She looked both relieved and annoyed. "Oh thank God!" She breathed. "Where the hell have you two been!? The crowd's been waiting for ten minutes now!" Jane was dressed in a similar polka dotted dress and white heels as Marilyn. They even had similar hairstyles, but Marilyn's was platinum blonde while Jane's hair was jet black. He surveyed both of the women for a few moments. They were dressed similarly, but they still seemed so different. After moments of careful inspection, he came to believe that the difference was in their faces. Marilyn always held what he saw as an angelic demeanor. Her face was framed perfectly with little slopes and curves where they were needed. She looked exactly like an angel. Jane Russell was beautiful as well, but her face showed more of a fierce, independent, and determined woman. She was the type of woman who was willing to steal your wallet in order to pay for a drink, while Marilyn was the type to seduce a man into buying her one.

Jane's clever eyes wandered over to Alfred. She'd heard about him through Marilyn, but had yet to see him. Alfred was standing uncomfortably still as the woman sized him up, almost testing to see if he was worth her attention. Finally she seemed to decide that he was, and she stuck her hand out to him. "Greetings, mister. The name's Jane Russell. I presume that you must be Alfred?" Alfred quickly reached out and shook her hand. "Ah, yes. I'm Alfred. Its nice to meet you." He smiled at her, and she gave him a slight smile in return. "Yes well, we need to hurry on out there. Cant leave the paparazzi waiting." Jane said, tugging Marilyn's arm. "Of course! I'll go out there from a different path. Have fun you two!" Alfred called as he began to make his way out from the small hallway and back into the main plaza. He exited the theater and made his way through the public entrance to the back of the theater, urging aside cheering fans and paparazzi. 

He managed to make his way through the throngs of cheering people and flashing cameras. The two stars had already walked out and were smiling dazzlingly and waving at the cameras. The two girls, hand in hand, walked down to where they were to leave their marks on history. A small perch had been placed in front of the two squares of wet cement, allowing Marilyn and Jane to lay down in order to better place their hands. First, they each signed their names at the top of their squares. Then, they took turns writing the name of their shared picture, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes," across both of their squares. Then, both girls lay down across the small perch, reaching down and carefully pressing their hands into the wet cement.

Alfred smiled at the sight of Marilyn laughing and smiling and looking so carefree. He knew that this was a big moment for her. After a few moments, both girls carefully removed their hands and looked at their work. Their handprints were perfectly set into the cement. An assistant then helped them stand up on the perch. Cameras still flashing, the girls carefully pressed one of their heels into the cement, created a shoe print below their handprints. Then they added the other foot, carefully setting both shoe prints. After a few moments, the girls decided to step away and back onto the perch.

Lastly, to mark their achievement, they both took their sticks and carved out the date on the lower right side of their squares. Cheers continued to erupt from an applauding audience and pleased paparazzi as the two girls continued to wave at the cameramen. Alfred could see Marilyn visibly wipe away a few tears, and he had to resist the urge to go over to her and hug her. Finally, the girls decided that it was probably time to leave after signing some autographs and posing for the paparazzi. They hurried back into the theater and Alfred rushed to greet them where they'd first met up in the little room.

"Hey, I watched what happened! You both did great!" Alfred said when he saw Jane and Marilyn in the little room. Marilyn laughed. "Oh, my gosh! I can't believe I finally got to put my handprints here! This was something I've always wanted to do!" Marilyn crooned. Jane smiled and rested her hand on her shoulder. "Well, how about we celebrate this day with some drinks? I could use something to help me relax after wearing heels like these all day." Jane joked, throwing herself into a chair. "I can pay for the drinks. Where do you want to go?" Alfred asked her. She thought for a moment. "Well, there's a great bar I know down the road from here. I always go there after filming." Alfred nodded. "Okay then."

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the bar, sipping alcohol and talking about the filming season and what their plans were after the film was finished. Alfred had had plenty of nights like this with other nations, but it honestly felt like one of the best nights of Alfred's life. As he stumbled home half drunk, memories of Jane's crude jokes and debates with Marilyn over the best alcohol, he hoped that his life could be made of moments only like this. He didn't want a happily ever after, like Italy said. All he wanted was someone he could talk to, and he found that in a certain clever young blonde.


	24. Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very iconic scene :3

 

August, 1953

 

_'The French are glad to, die for love. They delight in fighting... Duels!"_

In all his years, never had Alfred seen something like what he was seeing. What he saw was Marilyn Monroe onscreen, dressed in a fabulous pink dress and draped in a diamond necklace and bracelets and earrings, performing a song that was causing a stir all across the nation. 

The movie had only been published a little while ago, and already critics were raving and movie fans were fawning. Her photographs were published in newspapers all across the nation and most of Europe and Australia and some of even Asia. Canada had mentioned that she was increasingly popular over at his place. 

' _But I prefer a man who lives and gives... Expensive... Jewels!'_

There was a feeling that every man who'd heard that line had secretly hoped in his heart that that man could be him. But he knew that what Marilyn had was something practically unattainable. Even by a nation. DiMaggio might have a hold on her heart, but nobody could ever truly have a hold on this woman. She was something that many women dreamed of being, but were too scared to try. She was bold and daring, and it all showed in the way she flipped her hair at or sashayed in her heels from those who were against her, whether that be the studio or critics.

' _A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend..'_

_A kiss may be grand, but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat! Or help you at the automat!'_

Marilyn was moving now, the backups in black tuxes staying close around her. She waved her arms for emphasis, her sexiest smile plastered on her face, and crooned out the lines that would be printed in her legacy long after she was gone. 

' _Men grow cold, as girls grow old! And we all lose our charms in the end..._

_But square cut or pear shape, these rocks don't lose their shape! Diamonds are a girl's best friend!'_

A new beat played, and the gentleman surrounded her, raising diamonds all around her as her character grabbed and inspected some. Her acting was flawless in his opinion. Of course he never listened to her critics anyways. What mattered was that she was a star. She was nearly world famous. She was among the most popular stars in America, and right now the sky was the limit for her. He just wanted to be there for her as she continued her climb. 

_'Tiffany's! Cartier! Black Star, Frost Gorham, talk to me Harry Winston, tell me all about it!'_

Marilyn was lifted into the air by two backups before being quickly set down and ushered up the red velvet steps in front of her. Turning and seating herself, she was surrounded by girls in poofy pink dresses with black fishnets covering their faces and pink roses in their hair. They huddled around her as if she was their leader, and Marilyn acted the role of one. She reached her arms out in an affectionate gesture to the girls, and sang as if offering very valuable advice.

_'There may come a time when a, lass needs a lawyer, but diamonds are a girl's best friend..._

_There may come a time when a, hard-boiled employer thinks you're awful nice, but get that ice or else no dice!'_

Rising up to stand, Marilyn smiled wide-eyed at the camera, adjusting her dress as she continued her song.

_'He's your guy when stocks are high, but beware when they start to descend,'_

Mary then quickly moved to seat herself again, motioning for the girls to come close to her as if she was about to tell them an important secret. It was one of Alfred's favorite parts of the song. Here was a woman who was beautiful, but also smart and wisened in society, and knew much about what men wanted from a woman. And here this woman was, warning and teaching these younger girls of the dangers of society. How men could merely be using you, and how best to protect yourself. It was a scene that many people disregarded without a second thought, but Alfred was actually one for symbolism. He loved things that were symbolic, and he loved to speculate on what symbolic things truly meant, because sometimes symbolic things had multiple or even endless meanings. It was just up to you and your mind and your heart to figure out what they meant to you.

_'It's then that those louses go back to their spouses! Diamonds are a girl's best friend!'_

The instrumentals began as Mary marched down the velvet steps, the girls following her for a moment before stopping halfway down and sitting back down. But Marilyn continued on down until she reached the bottom. From there, she walked down a line of backups who were holding up diamonds to her level. She pushed a pair of men away from her with both arms, then another, then one more. Then another pair of backups came in and lifted her off the ground once more, carrying her over to another gentleman and setting her down. Grabbing onto that gentleman's diamond belt, she continued to sing while smiling seductively at the camera.

_'I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic, but diamonds are a girl's best friend..'_

Moving to the other side, she rested her arms against the arm of another gentleman.

_'And I think affairs that you, must keep masonic, are better bets.. If little pets get big baguettes!_

Marilyn moved to the center, twirling her fingers round one another as the backups gathered behind her and crouched down and watched.

_'Time rolls on, and youth is gone, and you can't straighten up when you bend...'_

The backups picked the star up and planted her on top of a platform, where she posed dramatically and began to reach the song's ending. 

_'But stiff back or stiff knees you stand straight at.... Tiffney's!'_

The men hummed behind her, before the song erupted to the ending lines. Marilyn spun around once, and sang as powerfully as she could. She moved down the platform, the men singing in the chorus behind her. 

_'Diamonds! Diamonds! I don't mean rhinestones! But,_

_Diamonds!... Are a girl's best... best friend!'_

The song closed out it's final notes. The audience watching the movie with Alfred cheered and howled at her spectacular performance, but Alfred didnt stand and clap, or say one word really. Besides, it wouldnt matter if he did. The curtains on screen may have closed with the song's ending, but Alfred knew that something else entirely had been opened widely, and may have been open for a lot longer than he, or anybody else for that matter, realized.


	25. Spycraft

 

November 4, 1953

 

_"Rockefeller!?"_

Marilyn rolled her eyes at Alfred. After watching Marilyn's latest picture, "How to Marry a Millionaire", he'd spent what felt like an hour talking about the 'Rockefeller' scene. Alfred had proclaimed that it was the most random and amusing scene he'd ever seen. But that it was totally unbelievable and unrealistic. "I mean, how could a wonderful girl like you ever fall for a guy that like!" Alfred had reasoned as they left the theater. Marilyn gave Alfred a look of exhaustion. "Al, did it ever occur to you that maybe people are different from how they look? Like maybe the ugliest person in the world could be the kindest, or how the most beautiful person in the world could be truly wicked?" Alfred blinked. "Well... I guess. It's just, you're not a bad person, Mary. You're smart, pretty, a great actress... who could hate you?"

Marilyn gave Alfred a fond smile, but said nothing. She merely shook her head, and asked quietly, "How about we go get something to eat, hm?" Alfred immediately had a bright, ignorant smile on his face, and they discussed which restauarnt to go to. They'd started a habit of going to see Marilyn's movies together, and then going out to eat or something afterwards. From what Marilyn hinted at a few times, Joe wasn't too pleased with the arrangement. He still remembered his threat at Marilyn's birthday party during the cruise. How Alfred was warned to stay away from Marilyn. He hadn't really followed that rule too well. But he and Marilyn's friendship was strong, and there's no way he was going to give that up just because Joe didnt approve. Even if he could only be friends with her. If it came down to it, he'd rather at least have her friendship than not be with her at all.

In the end, they'd decided to go to the cafe they'd had their first real conversation at. It was a favorite place of theirs, and he always enjoyed having Marilyn's company as he raved about the as-amazing-as-ever pies. So, as they walked in the chilly November air, Alfred searched for a topic to talk about. He wondered if maybe politics would interest her? After all, Presidential elections were just about to start in a few days, and so far Eisenhower was a big favoirte to the Democrats. He was a gallant war general during World War 2, and was greatly admired by many Americans. He had gotten the chance to meet the candidate a few weeks ago, and it had certainly been a memorable experience. He had a feeling that Eisenhower would be a tie-breaker.

Alfred was going to open his mouth to ask Marilyn her opinion about the candidates so far, but the look on her face stopped him short. She looked anxious, but was clearly trying not to show it. Had she been feeling this way the entire time? She must've been trying to hide her expression, but that didn't matter anymore. "Is something wrong?" He asked her quietly. "That look doesnt look too hopeful there." He added, trying to bring a bit of humor to it. It didn't work. Mary smiled at Alfred and shoved her hands in her black, plush overcoat. "Well, I guess not." She said simply. "It's nothing, Al. Im probably just overreacting about it anyways. I promise." Alfred frowned, clearly not buying her poor excuse to end the conversation. His friend was super anxious about something, and it was the least he could do to help her. "C'mon Mary, i'm your friend! You can trust me. I wont judge you or make fun of you if its something you're ashamed about. I do supid stuff all the time. Just ask Artie!" Trying to suppress a smile, Marilyn fell silent in thought. She spoke next as they reached the cafe and started to head inside, Alfred opening the door for her as usual.

"I guess I could tell you. Just... don't tell anybody," She urged him quietly. A waitress came by and escorted them to a table in the far back next to the window. Since Alfred's first time here, a lot had changed. The walls had been painted a light beige instead of the usual white. The tables had stayed the same, a circular mahogany craft with carvings along the side and sturdy mahogany chairs with detailed backrests and red chair cushions. The table setups dotted the entire expanse of the cafe, and the patio for outdoor eating connected to the cafe was setup with less fine furniture. The smell of coffee permeated the air, as did the smell of pastries baking in the oven and fresh ones sitting on display for customers to choose. Truffles, pies, cookies, cinnamon rolls, much, much more, as well as the usual coffee styles and teas. They were the smell of wonderful memories and conversations with friends and family. A waitress came by and took their orders as they settled themselves. Both wanted the famed cherry and cream pies they always liked, as well as some coffees with whipped cream. As soon as the waitress walked away, Alfred turned to Marilyn.

"Okay, spill. What is it you're so nervous about?" Mary fiddled with her fingers. "Well, its about Joe." Alfred was now less certain he wanted to be a part of this conversation. If they were fighting, he didnt want to be the one to cause anything drastic. Marilyn must've sensed his discomfort right away. "D-Dont worry! Nothing is bad between us, it's just.. well, I dont  _think_ anything is bad between us.. I hope not.. That why I just.. ugh, I dont know!" She cried in frustration. "Uh..." Alfred muttered. A hint of an amused smile appeared on her face at Alfred's cluelessless. He'd been told before that it was cute sometimes, how oblivious he was. But Alfred could never understand it. "Joe's been acting weirdly around me, Alfred. That's all..." Marilyn whispered, looking at everything but him.  _'Acting weirdly, huh? Interesting...'_ Alfred thought to himself. He was always quite the investigator (or so he thought. Whenever he would try to draw some conclusions about something, England would just tell him to shut up and stop being a stupid wanker). He looked at Marilyn, suddenly feeling like a detective who had an obligation to bring justice to a poor victim. "Acting weirdly, how?" He asked. She sighed. "He's been a little bit... off, lately. Maybe a bit distant. I try to do some things with him, but he always tells me that he's really busy. I often don't see him for hours at a time." Alfred hummed and nodded his head, taking mental notes.

"Anything else?" She thought for a moment. "Oh, yes. He's been really jumpy and stressed out a lot. I get the feeling hes trying to hide something from me. And its pretty easy for him to get frustrated and yell at times. I dont know what could be causing him to act like this, but i'm worried that he..." She trailed off. "...That he, what?" Alfred asked quietly, eyes wide with concentration and attention. She took a breath. "That he might be seeing someone else behind my back." She said. Alfred's eyes somehow managed to widened more. He was about to say something, but his words were cut off by the waitress arriving with their food. "A-ah, thanks, ma'am!" He said to her as their plates were set in front of them. She smiled brightly at Alfred, cheeks dusted with pink, and nodded to him before walking off to attend to customers who had just arrived.

Alfred turned back to Marilyn, who was taking small bites of her pie and looking only  _at_ the pie. "Mary, i'm sorry about what you're going through. I guess his actions may seem a little bit suspicious, but maybe he's just... planning something for you? Like a special date? Or a trip to Europe?" She was silent. "Look, if you're that bothered by his behavior then why don't I just... watch him a bit?" Marilyn looked up at him in confusion. "..What?" "Y'know! I could maybe follow him around, see what he does. If he does anything he's not supposed to, then I will let you know. How about it?" She bit her lip, looking very uncomfortable and unsure. "I dont know, Alfred. What if you get caught? He's going to think I dont trust him and he'll break up with me!" She cried. Alfred waved his hand in dismissal. "Dont worry, Mary. Im an expert at spycraft! He wont know im there." Mary deadpanned. "Thats what you said when you volunteered to cook dinner at my house a little after we met and I ended up with a destroyed frying pan and a burnt pot roast." "Psh! Spycraft is different from pot roast Mary. Just trust me on this. I wont let you down, I swear!" Marilyn sighed and thought for a moment. Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "Fine," she caved. "But if  _one_ thing goes wrong.."

"Dont worry, nothings gonna happen! Cross my heart and hope to die." He smiled, holding up his coffee. "Have we got a deal?" Marilyn slowly picked her cup of coffee up and raised it to meet Alfred's. Clinking their cups together, Alfred crooned the words, "Poor Joey wont know whats coming," before he and Marilyn raised their cups to their lips and let the fate of Marilyn Monroe's history be sealed as the coffee travelled down their throats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Joey, what are you up to, I wonder!!!


	26. Operation Overlord 2

November 20th, 1953

 

"You look stupid." 

America glared at Canada, who was leaning against the doorway of Alfred's bedroom in his house. Alfred had wanted some backup for his (incredibly important) spy mission on Joe. If he wanted this mission to work, he'd need eyes and ears to look out for him, as well as an immediate mode of escape. Joe was going to hang out at a bar party with some friends of his. While at the bar, Canada would observe from afar (due to his admittedly cool disappearing abilities) and take note of what he was doing. Should Joe leave sooner than expected, Canada was to delay their trip as much as possible until around midnight, when Alfred was expected to be finished with his own mission. They had about three hours until midnight.

Alfred, meanwhile, would go to the hotel that the group had rented rooms at and break into Joe's room. If he found any evidence, he would take a picture and bring it to Boss (Marilyn's code name). Alfred's code name was Blue (Democracy!). Canada would be White, because he has a lot of snow at his place. 

"Whatever. I look amazing and you can't convince me otherwise." Alfred said, adjusting the collar of his large brown overcoat and black hat. He'd have sunglasses to wear in case he ran into Joe for some reason, but if all went as planned, Alfred wouldn't see him at all. He stood up and began making his way out of his room and down the stairs to the living room, Canada trailing behind him and carrying all their "supplies." 

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Al? I mean, what if this is too... Extreme? Couldn't Marilyn always just ask Joe if she's concerned?" Mattie asked. Alfred sauntered over to the door and opened it, letting in the cold New York midnight air permeate the warmth of the house. He looked over his shoulder and grinned at Canada. "Oh come on, aren't you just a little bit curious as to what he's up to?" 

"No, eh! That's his personal business and we shouldn't be getting involved! Privacy, Al, privacy!" But Alfred was already out the door and making his way to the newest car on the market: the Ford Customline. Alfred's car was a bluish-green, and he'd gotten it as a birthday gift from Truman. Canada scurried to catch up to his brother, who pulled out a set of shiny keys and began to get into the car. 

Canada hurriedly set the items, which included smoke bombs and fake ID cards, in the backseat before getting into the passenger seat. "I have a bad feeling about this, Al.." Canada muttered, but Alfred just smiled at him. "Don't worry, Mattie. Things are gonna be perfectly fine! Why don't you just trust me?" 

Canada said nothing as Alfred turned on the car and made his way down the street, in the direction of the bar. Marilyn had given him the address and would be gathering as much information as she could from her place in California (He said she should move to New York, and she said that she was considering it).

* * *

 

Alfred pulled up behind the bar, and let Canada get his ID card and jacket together. "Okay, you remember what to do?" Alfred asked him. Canada sighed wearily. "Yes, eh..." "Good! Remember to call me if anything happens!" Alfred said before unlocking the car doors. Canada got out and quickly pulled on his jacket and stuffed his ID card in the pocket. It was a chilly November night, and Canada could see his breath in the air. Thankfully he was used to this kind of weather, so he would be fit to do any running or snooping around if Joe and his friends decided to walk around the town for some reason. 

"Remember your mission.. I believe in you, Mattie!" Alfred cheered before taking off down the street for the hotel, which was only a few blocks away. Canada looked on as the car sped off until it was out of sight, an exasperated look on his face. "Alfred, is it possible for you to get any stupider?" He wondered aloud. He began to make his way around the side of the building and towards the entrance, which was surrounded by neon pink and green lights blaring out the name "Rebels Bar" at the top. He could already hear blaring music from inside the joint. A security guard stood at the entrance, checking for ID cards to prove you were old enough to drink. Apparently this was a pretty high end bar, and many celebrities and parties liked to be hosted here when they were in New York. Showing his ID to the guard, the man simply nodded at Canada and he quickly scurried into the building, eyes temporarily blinded by the shine of bright lights.

He immediately made his way over to the bar to order a shot of whiskey and wait to see if he could find Joe. He knew that eventually, Joe would make a B-line for the booze. And it turns out he was right. He didnt even have to wait five minutes before he spotted Joe making his way over with some friends, laughing about something. They took their seats a few seats down from Matthew, who tried to listen in on their conversation without looking too suspicious. Due to the blaring music, he could only make out a few words. "Very... and then... guy... and I said... Right!" Inwardly groaning, he stopped listening when his second pint was given to him. Downing it in one go, he set the glass down and tried to think out a plan. He needed to get something worthy of Alfred's attention. 

This may be a stupid plan, but god damnit, Matthew Williams is still a very loyal person! Especially if this mission involved his brother's relationship. He hated seeing Alfred so depressed after Amelia's disappearance. When Marilyn came into his life, he saw the improvement she made. Perhaps Alfred couldnt tell, but hes been in such good spirits lately, its as if Amelia never happened at all. He wanted Alfred to smile again like he smiled at Amelia, and he was willing to do whatever it took. Even if it meant making a fool out of himself.

_'Alfred, please be careful...'_

* * *

 

Alfred wasnt having much luck completing his mission. The lady at the front desk of the hotel refused to let him into Joe's room despite the claim that he was friends with Joe. She had stated adamantly that only Joe was allowed to let Alfred enter the rooms, to ensure that no thief got into it instead. After pouting outside for a few minutes, he suddenly got an idea. He knew that Joe's room was on the third floor, and that his room was on the right side of the building in the first column of windows. Marilyn's pictures of the room had greatly helped him out there. In front of that balcony was now where Alfred stood. Praying to God that he wouldn't be caught and mentally writing out his will, Alfred F Jones prepared to begin his mission.

He grasped the bricks of the building, and tried to pull himself up. Hopefully his World War 2 training had paid off and all that time spent rock climbing during military training wasnt for nothing. It appeared to help, as Alfred slowly managed to pull himself up a few feet. He was already close to the first balcony, but the lack of things to climb on this fairly flat surfaced wall was beginning to make Alfred's muscles scream. Fighting the urge to let go, he pushed himself up more, grunting and breathing heavily. This had to have been the craziest thing he'd done so far, and yet there he was, the Personification of the United States of America trying to climb a wall to break into the room of his friend's boyfriend to see if he was cheating on her.

Reaching the first balcony, he grabbed the metal bars of the railing and hauled himself up, until his feet were high enough to grasp the flooring. Now positioned standing on the outside railing of some person's balcony, he took the chance to catch his breath before beginning his next climb. 

Alfred slided over to the wall and moved to stand on the balcony railing. Grabbing the bricks once more, he began pulling himself up towards the second balcony. The height was already beginning to get noticeable, and Alfred had to remind himself not to look down many many times. He grunted with the effort, pulling himself higher and higher, wiping the sweat on his forehead. You can call Alfred F. Jones many names, like stupid, brave, or insanely handsome, which he was. But he was  _not_ a coward who would give up. Only nazis gave up.

And with that thought in mind, Alfred only tried even harder to pull himself up faster, in an attempt to prove to who knows what that he was indeed, not a nazi.

* * *

 

After having a few drinks, Joe apparently decided to join the dancefloor with his buddies, leaving Canada at the bar. He still hadn't come up with a plan to better hear what Joe was talking about without getting too close to him that Joe would think he was Alfred. Frustrated, he decided to just join the dancing as well, and try again to hear their conversation. He stood from his seat and urged his way through the crowded dancefloor in pursuit of Joe. He found him a little bit away, dancing with a girl in a skimpy, violet-colored dress. Her dark hair flipped almost constantly as they moved to the music, and she seemed to subconsciously be putting her hands on his shoulders or chest. Despite this, Joe didn't seem to care much. Both of them were probably a bit drunk, which could help Matthew get more information.

He turned and found the nearest girl, a blonde with curles that cascaded over her shoulders and all down her back, and partially covered one of her eyes. She was wearing a red wine-colored dress that was tight enough to leave little imagination as to how her curves looked. He quickly moved up to her and asked her to dance. The girl seemed a bit tipsy, and she accepted immediately. They made their way closer to Joe, and Canada could swear that he could feel the glares of other men as he began to dance with the blonde girl. Matthew was listening to Joe's conversation with the brunette girl, but his partner began asking him questions not long after they started their dance. 

"So, tell me sweetheart, what's your name?" She asked, blue eyes gleaming seductively. Canada swallowed. "U-Um, M-Matthew Williams, ma'am. And you?" The girl smiled and Canada then spun her a few times. Once the spins were finished and she was back up close to Canada, she responded. "Maria. Maria Scott. Have you been here before? You seem a little... tense." She inquired. He got the feeling this was going to be a long night. 

* * *

 

Finally reaching the third balcony, America managed to pull himself over the railing and onto the floor of the balcony, breathing heavily and muscles aching. Slowly pulling himself to his feet, he staggered over to the balcony door, praying that it was open. He turned the doorknob, and to his relief, found it unlocked. He opened the door and stepped into the dark room. The room wasnt messy, and Joe's bags were placed on his bed. He guessed that Joe had rented the room and set his bags in it before immediately leaving to hit the bar. At least things would be easier this way. 

Walking around a bit, he examined the contents that were already set up in the room. There was one large bed against the wall, surrounded on both sides by a nightstand and a working desk. A TV set was placed in front of the bed, on top of a dresser. The bathroom was to the immediate left of the door to the room. On the nightstand sat a pair of glasses and a few pill bottles and a hairbrush. Alfred was immediately offset by this sight.  _'Pills? Is Joe addicted to something? And I didn't know he wore glasses..'_ A thought immediately planted itself into Alfred's head, causing him to freeze up immediately. Slowly turning to look at the bag sitting on the bed, he peered inside of it to see if this thought had some merit into it.

Inside the bag were clothes, one of them being a floral print dress and other items being women's undergarments. 

Alfred's breath caught in his throat at the sudden sound of the doorknob turning. He suddenly remembered that Marilyn had said that Joe's room was on the _fourth_ floor. Not the third one. Too stunned to do anything but stand there, he could only watch in horror as the door swung open to reveal a young girl who looked about the age of 21 or 22. As she took a step into her room, she immediately caught sight of the man standing in the middle of her room, and she froze with a loud gasp. For about 3 seconds, they both just stood there, staring at each other with expressions of terror.

After those 3 seconds, the girl let out an ear-piercing shriek, and immediately ran out of her room screaming for help. Knowing that his time was now very much numbered, Alfred lunged back onto the balcony and practically tossed himself over the edge, hands still gripping the railing tightly. Swinging from the edge and now forced to look down, Alfred tried to push back the dizzying of his mind when he looked down to see a drop of about 40 feet. He could already hear the commotion from inside the room as people from nearby rooms came outside to see what was happening.

Swinging himself, Alfred aimed for the balcony floor of the room below him. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the railing and managed to narrowly avoid hitting the railing of the second balcony. Falling on his chest, he forced himself up, his body trembling with the action and escape from danger. Once more, he jumped over the railing of the balcony and began to swing himself in order to land on the balcony below him. Repeating the process, he managed to jump down once more. However, the sudden and hard impact caused Alfred to feel a pain in his ankles. Alfred let out a pitiful whine, taking the time to recuperate. He could still hear the voices from the third floor room, as the people seemed to search all over the girl's room, but found nobody. 

After a few minutes, Alfred staggered over to the railing and looked down. After this last jump he would be back at ground level. Looking for a way to jump and land without hurting himself any more, he decided to take a chance with the flowery bushes planted all along the edge of the building. He had little time to wait, eager to get as far from the building as possible. He leapt over the edge and fell down towards the flower bushes. His landing cushioned his blow enough for him to not hurt his ankles again, but unfortunately his body hadnt been entirely spared. The sharp twigs and branches in the bushes gave him a few good cuts. Quickly picking himself up, he dashed for his car to escape. His mission had been a failure. He had been so sure his plan would work! Now his only hope was that Mattie had gotten something from Joe.

* * *

 

 Canada had not gotten anything from Joe. The only thing he'd managed to get from him was that there was some big event he was supposed to have coming up soon. And that was the only thing he had to tell Alfred when Alfred pulled up in the car early. It was only 10:51. Joe had become drunk after having a few bottles of strong whiskey, and his friends had decided to take him to their hotel room. There was still about 1 hour until midnight. Shocked at his early arrival, Canada walked over to the car dejectedly, and slowly opened the door and took his seat. One look at Alfred told him that his mission had failed, too. He was covered in scratches, and his face was a bit dirty and his hair disheveled. "Al," Canada gasped. "What happened to you?" 

America gave him a defeated-looking smile. "Ill explain at my place. Did you find out anything?" He asked, sounding desperate and hopeful. Canada felt horrible when the shake of his head brought a look of utter defeat to his brother's face. "W-What?" Matthew sighed, unable to look Alfred in the eye. "It was hard to hear with the music so loud in there. Plus, I guess he just didn't really talk about it at all. He was busy drinking and dancing with other people. The only thing I found out was that he was planning some big event later. Said so to a friend of his when he went to the bathroom."

Alfred stayed silent, gently rubbing his head with the back of his hand. He seemed exhausted and worn out. "Well, let's just... go back to my place. We can cook dinner and watch a movie or something." He said quietly. Matthew nodded sadly. 

The drive back to Alfred's place was extremely silent. Matthew wondered if Alfred was coming up with inferences on what could possibly be about to happen. If so, the serious and concentrated look on his brother's face told him that the conclusion he'd reached hadn't been a good one, at least for him.

* * *

 

New Year's Eve, 1953

 

Alfred found out what all of Joe's declarations had meant when it was too late. When he told of his failure to Marilyn a few days after the mission, she had been extremely upset and disappointed. Nevertheless, she had been intrigued about the fact that Joe was planning something. She'd spent lots of time mulling over what that meant even after she'd informed Alfred of her plans to go to New York to spend New Year's Eve with him and a lot of her other friends, and Joe. Joe was even planning a big New Year's Eve party back at his large penthouse not far from Times Square

The party was where Alfred found himself at the moment, in a nice suit and surrounded by a few politicians and music artists. They were all drinking champagne and chattering about their goals for 1954, how they planned for big improvements to be made to their careers. Alfred drank some of his champagne before excusing himself from the conversation and walking away from the expensive dark leather couches where he'd been talking with the group. Lots of people were gathered at the large living room mirrors to watch the fireworks show that would begin momentarily. The mirrors were tall enough to reach the ceiling, and there were about 3 of the large mirrors taking up most of the wall. From the room, they could see the dazzlingly bright colored lights of the surrounding buildings. They could see the massive crowds gathered all around Times Square. Barely an inch of ground could be seen.

"Great party, huh?" Asked a voice from behind. Alfred turned around to see Marilyn in her dark blue satin strapless dress. Her hair had been styled and pinned to the top of her head, and she was wearing her favorite pair of elbow-length white gloves and a glass of red wine was in her hand. He smiled at her. "Yeah, it's pretty nice. Never been to such a fancy New Year's Eve party before. Usuallly i'd be down there in the crowds." He said, motioning to the very crowded Times Square. She hummed. "Ive never been down there before, during New Years Eve. In fact, this is my first New Years in New York." She said. Alfred's smile widened. "Well then perhaps you and I can go down there next year." Marilyn's smile widened, too, in an amused way. "Sure! I'd like that..."

"Attention, everybody!" Joe's voice rang out all throughout the room. Everyone turned to face Joe, who was standing on a chair. "Please excuse my interruptions, but there is something i've got to say first!" The room was still silent as Joe stepped down off the chair and approached Marilyn and Alfred. "Marilyn, you know that we've been together for awhile.." Marilyn didn't speak, but she nodded in agreement. "And you know how happy you've made me through all this time." Now, he was standing right in front of her. Alfred had resigned to step backwards, as did the other guests around them, leaving the two standing alone. 

"Joe, what are you..." "This has had a long time coming, and I believe there is no reason why I should put this off any longer." Joe said. "Marilyn, i've loved you ever since I first saw you. You've supported me, and made me laugh, and cheered me on in my darker days." Marilyn's eyes were now very wide. "Look, I want to be able to continue to do the same for you, forever." Marilyn could hardly speak, one hand covering her mouth. "Joe..." She all but whispered.

"Marilyn," Joe said, kneeling down on one knee. "Will you marry me?" He said, pulling out a box from his pocket and opening it, revealing a sparkling diamond ring.

Everyone around them seemed to gasp, including Alfred. Some people began to cheer or whistle, while others looked on excitedly at the scene taking place before them. Marilyn herself stood frozen to her spot, unable to form words due to her shock. Her jaw worked a bit, until she was finally able to get something out. "O-Oh! I.. I just.. Oh, Joe, yes!" She squealed, setting down her cup before throwing herself into Joe's arms. "A million times yes!" She cried, smiling so big that she seemed to be glowing. Everybody immediately cheered and applauded them, and Alfred slowly clapped too. He felt unusually numb, finding it hard to comprehend what just happened. But knowing he needed to be happy for his friend, his _engaged_ friend, he began to clap too, and plastered a fake smile on his face that he hoped everyone thought was real.

Joe pulled Marilyn into a loving kiss, and just like that, the fireworks in Times Square suddenly began launching, surprising everybody in the room. The flashes of green, red, blue, white, purple, and many other colors and patterns decorated the night sky, and let the whole world know that 1954 was now here, and so was the beginning of a new era for everyone. 

Standing there and watching Marilyn's look of glee, Alfred never could've imagined all that was going to happen to her, and to him, in only a few months time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW That was a long chapter for me. I spent all of last night and now working on this thing. Now its time for a small, well deserved break before I begin to turn this story in the direction that im sure many of you have been waiting for! ;)


	27. Wedding Bell Chorus

January 14th, 1954

 

Alfred quickly adjusted his suit as he got out of his car and made his way to San Francisco City Hall. The outside of the building looked gorgeous as always. It was modeled after the U.S. Capital building, except it had countless intricate details carved into the building. From the detailed Greek-style pillars to the spire on top of the dome, to the wide green lawn lined with trees, the building looked more like Versailles palace in France than a City hall.

Today, people were milling into and from the building, dressed in the finery that you'd expect from a wedding. Although this time, he noticed more photographers and paparazzi today. It seemed that all of America knew about the wedding of movie star Marilyn Monroe and baseball legend Joe DiMaggio. As he walked up the steps of the building and through one of the doors, he was immediately given the sense of being in a grand ballroom of a palace, probably the intended effect of the design. There was a circular marble pattern in the floor and lights were gleaming from all around on lamp posts. There were three floors of balconies. The first part of the grand staircase was a circular shaped set of stairs, that led up to the typical straight-shaped set. The staircase led up to the second floor, which was also the first and lowest balcony. Couples were usually married at the top of the circular shaped set of stairs, where the straight set began. Pews were set up in rows on the ground, angled to watch the wedding ceremony. 

Alfred found a pew near the front, and sat down on the side of the pew that was next to the aisle, where Marilyn would walk down. There wasn't much to do besides wait for the ceremony to start, so he just sat there and watched as more people began to fill the pews around him. The building would be closed off before the ceremony began, so that strangers couldn't get into the wedding ceremony. A young girl, around Marilyn's age, sat next to him in the pew. She had find features, dark curly hair, and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a light purple dress with a thin purple jacket over it and white heels. She noticed him looking and turned to look at him, smiling. "Hello?" Alfred stuttered slightly, abashed at being caught staring. "O-oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.." "No, no! It's fine. What's your name, sir?" 

"My name's Alfred... And you?" The girl stuck out her hand for a handshake. "My name is Berniece Baker Miracle. I'm Marilyn's sister!" Alfred's eyes widened slightly. "S-Sister? I didn't know she had a sister!" Berniece looked away quickly, a contemplative expression in her eyes. "Well... I guess we're not full sisters, but we  _are_ half sisters. I didn't even know she existed until I was 19 and she was 12. After our mother had her.... Illness, when I was four, I went to stay with my father. But since my father wasn't Marilyn's, he had no actual custody over her. She went on to stay with foster families."

Alfred was speechless. He hadn't known about all of this secret family that Marilyn had. Why hadn't she ever thought to tell him about her sister? He had been told that Marilyn's mother, Gladys Baker, had a mental breakdown, but never mentioned that she had a sister. Thinking it through, he supposed maybe she was too young to remember her sister, and nobody ever told her about Berniece. Alfred couldn't imagine just finding out that he had a long lost brother or sister. He just couldn't picture a life without Mattie, or only just finding out that he even existed. Alfred opened his mouth to say something, condolences maybe, but the sudden silence in the room broke off his concentration on the conversation. The bridesmaids had begun to make their way down the aisle. They were wearing light pink dresses that went down to the knee, and bows around their waist. Small bouquets of colored flowers were in their hands and they had hair clips of multiple pink roses in their hair. They were walking with the groomsmen, dressed in find dark suits and ties. Alfred could see some of the paparazzi that were allowed inside for a few pictures snapping pictures of the train of people quietly from different corners of the room. 

Joe himself was standing at the top of the first staircase already, hands placed neatly in front of him expectantly, fiddling with his hands as he nervously waited for his bride. Alfred had been told by Marilyn that she hadn't really wanted a big ceremony, but Alfred had entreated her to plan big. 'This is your  _wedding,_ Mary!' Alfred had said. 'Make it something to really remember!' After more urging, she agreed to get bridesmaids and groomsmen, but wouldn't wear a "big, stuffy white dress," in her words. Although Alfred would've liked to see how beautiful his friend would look in a wedding dress, he resigned with what he had gotten. At least there'd be some bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Simple was what Marilyn wanted, and simple was what she got. Alfred and the other guests stood up from their seats and turned to watch the bride make her way down the aisle. She walked down, Milton Greene escorting her. He'd always been like a father figure to her. Marilyn was wearing a black suit white a fluffy white collar. She had on a simple black skirt with matching heels and a white corsage tied to her wrist. She was dressed simply, but she still looked beautiful. And although she wasn't in the dress Alfred imagined, the large, happy smile on her face made up for it. Joe seemed equally satisfied. Berniece had a dreamy look in her eyes, gazing lovingly at her sister. Seemingly all of the guests, made up of close friends and family, we're giving the couple similar looks to Berniece.

When Marilyn made her way up the stairs and grasped hands with her husband, The guests were told to be seated, and they sat. The priest began his long speech, preaching about unity and everlasting love and asking God to forever protect their Union of man and wife. All the while, Joe and Marilyn stared into each other's eyes. Joe seemed to quietly whisper something to Marilyn during the speech that made her smile wider and blush lightly. Quickly composing herself, she stood there steadily with him until the ring bearer gave them the rings, and then it came time to say their vows.

Both spoke simple statements, but he could tell that they meant to have a lot of meaning in them. Both spoke of each other being their best friend and of always loving each other and promising to always be there. Marilyn was blushing so much that she had to look away to save herself from embarrassment, but Joe only smiled. On their fingers, the rings were sparkling brightly from the reflection of the light, showing off the glittering diamonds. Alfred got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that felt similar to a feeling of emptiness or longing. But really, he didn't quite understand what he longed for. His country had a booming economy, he was one of the most popular nations on Earth right now, he had a new and hopeful president, he had his brother and Francis and Arthur, and one of his best friends was getting married and was happy. So why then did he feel so unsatisfied? Why did he feel as though there was a piece of him that was out of place? Missing? Gone into thin air?

After the wedding ceremony was over not long after the vows were said and they sealed the marriage with a kiss, everybody soon began the afterparty. In another room, a large table was covered in fruits, pies, sandwiches, juice, alcohol, cookies, brownies, salads, and much more. The most noticeable feature was the three-tiered wedding cake. Joe had wanted to make the occassion as special as possible, and everyone was soon snacking and chatting with others or dancing to the music a band played for the occassion. Alfred eventually got the chance to speak with Marilyn after she finished a long conversation with some of Joe's relatives. She smiled at Alfred and offered him a drink. He declined it with the excuse of already having a few. "So, you're married now. How does it feel?" He asked. She took a deep breath, as if trying to get used to her circumstances. "Oh, I cant even describe it! It feels very different, thats for sure. Its exciting, like I know theres so much waiting for me now. But its also a bit scary, like theres been some new responsibility placed on my shoulders and I dont know how to handle it."

"Well, its not like this is your first time? Youve been married before." Alfred offered her. "Yeah, I have. But James was gone for the majority of the marriage, off serving in World War 2. And meanwhile, I focused on factory work. That was my only responsibility. But now, ill have to figure out all of this marriage stuff firsthand." Alfred smiled at her softly. "Just know that ill always be here to support you." Marilyn returned his smile, somehow even softer than his. "Thank you, Al. That means more to me than you can think."

"So, what do you plan on doing now?" He asked her. She thought for a moment. "Oh! I forgot to tell you. Later in the year, i've got another big picture coming up. I believe its called The Seven Year Itch?" Alfred's eyes widened at this. "Really? Thats great! When do you start shooting?" "Calm down. Its not till much later in the year, like eight or nine months. But the director has reached out to me for the role and I plan on accepting after I get settled down. Pretty excited to see how it'll turn out, though." They spoke a bit more on what the plot and characters might be like based on the information Marilyn was given. Marilyn hoped it was a more serious role, the kind she'd been desiring for a long time, now. She hoped people would start taking her seriously as an actress. Alfred hoped it was an action movie, of course. Just because he liked action movies. 

By the time Marilyn was called over to cut the wedding cake with Joe, it was about 4:50 PM, and the wedding ceremony was supposed to officially end at 5:15. Slowly, the newly weds cut slices of the vanilla cake and passed them out to the guests. Alfred took a slice and ate his as he watched Marilyn and Joe standing together around the cake. The two linked arms and tried to feed each other a piece of cake, struggling to fully succeed but just managing to anyways. The effort sent Marilyn into loud bouts of laughter, which made guests all around chuckle. But despite the large slice of cake Alfred ate, it wasnt enough to quell the feeling of emptiness in his stomach, and he was afraid of mentioning this everlasting emptiness to anybody in fear that they'd only call him mad.

Or worse, in love.

 


	28. Raised on the Ramparts

February 2nd, 1954

 

Alfred waited nervously in the middle of a hallway in the White House, twiddling his thumbs and pacing back and forth as he waited. Earlier, he had been eating breakfast with the new First Lady, a lovely woman named Mamie Eisenhower. Despite her older age, her chin-length curly hair was still a fine dark brown, almost black, in color. Her cheeks were still rosy and she always had a smile present on her face. She immediately became popular among citizens and the press for her rather youthful and colorful style. He had just finished his coffee when a courier walked briskly into the diningroom, went up to Alfred's seat and leaned over to whisper something into his ear. 

"The President called for you, Mr. Jones. He said he'd like to speak with you immediately." 

The words made Alfred confused and worried, but he quietly excused himself from the table, Mamie smiling at him and gladly dismissing him with a casual wave of her hand. From there, Alfred was led down the hall and just outside the Oval Office, where he currently stood now. The courier told him that President Eisenhower would call him in just after he finished a call he was currently taking before quickly walking off and disappearing around a corner.

Alfred wondered what was so urgent that the president needed to speak to him immediately. At first, his instincts immediately went to the USSR. The Cold War was in full swing now. He still remembered August of 1953, when a government sponsored coup overthrew the Iranian government. The incident was like adding gasoline to fire, causing chaos and sent even more shockwaves around the world. USSR had been avoiding Alfred lately, but Alfred had clearly been glad for the silent treatment. He didn't need anymore drama than he already had right now. 

But still, Alfred remained cautious of Ivan. Despite being a global superpower himself, he knew that Ivan wasn't someone to mess with. He was dangerous and unstable. And what was especially weird was the lack of an appearance of Ivan. He knew from other stories that when nations fought with him, Ivan always was present somehow, whether it be his troops constantly harassing his foe or Ivan himself stalking said nation, or rigging their government buildings. The fact that there was no sign of Ivan truly worried him. He wondered what USSR must be planning.

It was then that the president called Alfred into the room with a muffled, "Alfred, come in!" From behind the door. Straightening his back, Alfred opened the door and strode quickly over to his president, who was sitting at his desk and filling out some paperwork. The desk was piled high with papers, and hard lines creased the man's face as he worked almost nonstop. The new president was a calm man, his head nearly bald and his face showing signs of age. But his eyes were hard and blue, and he stood with the poise of someone who was meant to lead. Alfred hadn't been around his new boss much, but he'd learned enough to know that Mr. Eisenhower could be witty and charming when he was relaxed, and today, it seemed, wouldn't be one of those days. He missed Truman's small, calming smile and speaking of wise proverbs that he'd learned in his youth. But there was nothing he could do about that, of course.

"You called for me, sir?" Alfred asked timidly, his back unusually straight. The president looked up from his work, sitting back in his chair and fixing Alfred with a calm look. "Ah, yes. I just wanted to inform you of something I've decided. I think it would benefit us and our troops out in Korea." Alfred's shoulders relaxed slightly now that he knew he wasn't in trouble for anything. 

"O-Oh! Of course, sir! What have you come up with?" He asked, relieved. The president took a deep breath. "I've decided that our troops could use some... Morale boosting. I was thinking that maybe someone could go and visit the troops. Someone who could boost morale very much." Alfred stared at him. "Umm.. Okay? Who did you have in mind sir?" Alfred inquired, not knowing what direction this conversation was taking. Who could the president send to Korea that could possibly cheer up thousands of people all at once? Would he send the First Lady? A White House representative? Some governor? 

Eisenhower smiled. "I was thinking about a celebrity that everyone seems to like nowadays. How about-"  _No, don't say it..._ Alfred thought desperately in his mind.  _Please don't say-_

"-Marilyn Monroe." Alfred's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't say anything for what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only a few seconds. "...Alfred?" His boss asked him. Alfred finally found the words he had been groping for in his mind. Or at least he thought he had. "I-uh-well-I-It's just-well-I don't-" "Whoa, hold on there, boy!" His boss said, and Alfred's mouth clamped shut. "What's got your tongue tied? Don't you think it's a good idea? She's the most popular actress in the country now. I'm sure she could cheer up just about anyone she wanted to." 

"Well, y-yes sir. I do agree. It's just.. Well, she started her honeymoon today, sir. She won't be back for a long while. We can't just end her honeymoon early." His boss smiled slightly. "Are you friends with Mrs. DiMaggio?" Alfred tried to hide his flinch at the reminder of her new name. "Yes, sir. I am. We've known each other for a while now. Is there anyway we can send somebody else? How about Jane Russell? Or Betty Grable? Or-" 

His boss shook his head. "None of those young ladies have as much appeal as Mrs. DiMaggio. Besides, I've already had a letter sent to her, asking if she could go and meet with the troops." A look of shock and horror crossed Alfred's face. "W-What! But.. But you-" Eisenhower raised his hands in front of himself. "Calm down. I've informed her that the trip would only be a few hours. A day at most, for her trip there and back. And I've also let her know that she doesn't have to do this, but it would be most appreciated. She would go, entertain the troops for a while and go straight back to her honeymoon. Where is she honeymooning again?" 

Alfred spoke quietly. "Japan, sir." The president hummed and nodded. "I'm sure she will have a grand time, and that hopefully she decides to take this opportunity. Our soldiers could use it." He muttered under his breath. Alfred was silent. His boss stood and walked over to the window, looking out over the wide lawn of the White House and down Pennsylvania Avenue. Alfred watched as he looked out the window for a moment, a look of graveness and hard concentration on his face that wasn't there a few minutes ago.

"...Do you need a moment, sir?" Alfred asked him, not knowing what else to do. His boss sighed, and shook his head. "You can go if you wish, Alfred. I just wanted to inform you of what was going on." Alfred stood there, looking uncertain. He fiddled with his fingers once more, but his feet stayed rooted in place. After a few moments of standing there quietly, his boss turned to face him with a curious look on his face, like he was confused that Alfred hadn't left. Slowly, Alfred walked over to stand next to his president beside the window, his heart thumping in his chest. He looked away. "I know this isn't easy for you, with you being new to office and having to do with two wars right now." His president continued to look at him. "...But, I'll be there to help you. Every second of the way." He said quietly but resolutely. 

After a moment, his boss gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Alfred." He said, and Alfred's heart beat even more wildly. Many of his bosses had been like brothers or uncles or cousins to him. He cared for all of them, except for a very select few. When he'd mentioned how close he was to a lot of his bosses to Mattie, he'd asked him why they were like brothers and uncles to him and not like fathers. And the truth was that there was  _one_ boss that Alfred had seen as a father. And he hadn't needed anymore father figures after that. The one he already had completed him. He didn't know who his family members were really. So, he slowly built himself one. He'd already had countless people who he considered brothers or sisters or cousins or uncles or aunts. He even had one grandfather figure, who was Ben Franklin. His father figure and his wife were like his parents. He even had 50 children. It was a massive family tree considering all the people he'd added over the years.

But still something was missing. And despite his own denial, his mind could easily fill in the words for him. He just knew that something was missing.. Like...

_Like a wife._

* * *

February 16th, 1954

 

 

Alfred quickly held up his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight and strong breeze as the truck veered left and the army base came into greater detail. Marilyn sat next to him in the back seat, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and dark green pants with brown boots. If she weren't so pretty in everything she wore, you never would have guessed that this was Marilyn Monroe.

"Thank you again for doing this, Mary. I know you must've been busy and I'm sorry for interrupting-" Marilyn cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Oh, nonsense. I don't mind in the slightest. Besides, this is important too. I'd love to meet with soldiers and thank them for their services." She said, looking out over the military base as they truck neared. There were a few big buildings in the area, and from the truck he could see hundreds of scurrying figures moving around within the vicinity. The base wasn't what you'd expect from the military, but it was expansive enough to hold the many men that it did. 

After Marilyn agreed to visit the troops, she set off about a week later from Japan and flew out to Korea. Alfred took a different flight to Korea and arrived a day or two before her. When her plane landed, she was immediately placed on a bulky green truck where Alfred was waiting and the truck set off for the base. They were arriving at the base now, and the truck had to slow down so that it wouldn't hit anybody as soldiers crowded around the truck like a parade crowded a street. The two received many welcomes from higher ranking officials as they passed, and eventually arrived safely at the command center, where she and Alfred would have rooms to stay in should there be a need. 

Alfred left the center not long after arriving and immediately sought out his friends that he knew were serving here. He found some of them, Will and Robert, at a bar not far from the command center. They jumped from their seats when they spotted him walk through the doors and greeted Alfred with strong pats, almost shoves, on his back, quickly steering him towards the bar. "Oh man," Will said. "You didn't tell me you had a hot girlfriend, man!" He snickered, and Alfred sent him an unamused smirk. "We're not dating, Will. She's married, and maybe you would be too if you weren't such an ass." The two erupted into gales of laughter as they took their seats, Alfred sitting between them now. 

"So, how long are you staying, Al?" Robert asked him, taking a swig of alcohol. "Oh, not long. Marilyn is busy and I've got things I need to do back at work, too." Alfred signed. The bartender, a young man with black hair and dark eyes, approached him and asked which drink he'd like. Alfred ordered a shot of whisky, and the man nodded and went to get his drink. "What do you plan on doing while you're here?" Will asked, twirling his empty shot glass with his finger around the mahogany table. "Probably just go around and talk with soldiers; check on supplies. Make sure things are running smoothly. What about you guys? What've you been up to?" Alfred inquired, giving his companions a warm look. "So far all we've got going on recently is training and drills. Besides that, not much. Just thinkin' about my family." Will said with a wistful expression. Alfred remembered meeting Will's wife, Caroline, not long after they became friends and before Will enlisted for the Korean war. Will was fairly recently married, and had decided to enlist in honor of his older brother, Marcus, who served in World War 2. Their father had served in World War 1. Of course, not long before Will was to leave, Caroline had broken the news to him that she was pregnant with their child. 

Will's enlistment ended in a few months, and the guy could hardly wait to be back home to meet his daughter or son. "Don't worry. You'll see them very soon." Alfred said consolingly to him and Will smiled gratefully. Alfred wondered what it would be like to have a family like that. To have a wife waiting for you back at your home and a little child waiting with her; waiting to welcome their daddy home. The thought sent waves of tenderness to his heart. His states were his darlings, all 48 of them. But he also felt that they would've wanted a mother, too. 

Alfred's drink was suddenly placed in front of him, making him jump a little. He looked up at the bartender, who nodded and walked off. He picked up his drink, bringing it up to his lips and letting the cool, strong liquid rush down his throat. "Well, hurry with that drink, Al," Robert said. "I've heard there's a special performance for us soon and that we're all expected to be at the stage by five." Alfred nodded and quickly finished his drink. The bartender came along, quickly swiping up their glasses and running a tablecloth over the bar table. The trio got up and made their way from the bar. The stage was set up by the time they walked from the bar and passed by some other buildings until the area came into sight. There was already a pretty big crowd of soldiers gathered around in the sunny but chilly air, despite the fact that it was only 4:46. 

 _'I guess they're all pretty excited. Looks like Eisenhower's plan worked out really well.'_ Alfred thought to himself amongst the chatter of the soldiers. Alfred, Will, and Robert moved to get seats near the front. By the time they all finally got settled into seats, there were only a few moments before the show would begin. Alfred turned to Robert. "How's your sister doing, Rob?" He asked. Robert spoke with his eyes still pinned on the stage. "Oh, she's getting better. I think she's set to get released from the hospital in about two weeks or so. Mom and dad are real excited." He said. "Huh," Alfred mused. "Do you plan on being there for it?" Robert was silent before he replied again, quietly. "I want to. Believe me. It's just... This is where I feel I belong. I've made so many friends here, and I've learned so much. I'd hate to leave all that behind, but I know it'll happen eventually. I do want to visit, but I just wish I could visit and not miss everything here." He explained, his eyes lowered to stare at his dust-covered boots. 

Alfred pat his back softly. "Don't worry. You're young, you're determined, you're a great soldier. You've got a long time to spend with your friends and everything else here. I also grew pretty fond of people I've met when I served in the war." Will and Robert didn't know that Alfred was a nation. Therefore, they only believed that he had served in the Korean War, but Alfred was thinking about all of the wars he's seen. From his Revolution to World War 2. Robert looked like he wanted to say something, but he was cut off by a voice coming from the stage. One of the commanders was on stage, addressing the crowd with a microphone. He was still in his finely made military uniform, as was every soldier. He welcomed everybody and informed the soldiers that this performance was  for them, in thanks to their determination and bravery for their service. With that, he held out his arms and announced their special guest. 

The soldiers nearly erupted when she walked on stage. Alfred's eyes widened and he could scarcely speak. His two friends were in similar states. The star who walked on stage was very different from the girl Alfred had greeted when she got off the plane in her pants and plain brown boots. This girl wore gold colored heels on her feet. A sparkling, dark blue spaghetti strap dress gleamed in the sunlight, and earrings dangled from her ears. She looked exactly like the woman that these soldiers had heard all about: the sexy, inviting, stylish beauty icon who could seduce any man she wanted, though that wasn't how Alfred had seen her. To him, she would be more like Norma Jean, smart and funny and caring. A girl who would rush to help you when you needed it, but wasn't afraid to call you out when you did something you shouldn't. The woman onstage sauntered up to the microphone, which was nearly driving the men around Alfred mad. They cheered more as she reached the microphone, smiling her dazzling smile out into the crowd. A band had been organized behind her, further back on the stage. They would play songs that she had sung, like Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend. And she would sing to the soldiers and work her magic the way no other girl could. She didn't even need to speak to them first; they were cheering loud enough at her very presence. And when the band started playing, it caused pure pandemonium. Alfred could scarcely hear Marilyn sing the lines or hear the beating of the drums as the first song began. 

Alfred was so mesmerized by the girl he saw on stage. Her angelic voice, her smile, the way she held out her arms as if welcoming the world to see what she could do. Even the little things, like the way her lips twitched upwards when she smiled, or the way she held herself. Everything about her seemed to mesmerize him. Seeing her in the pictures was one thing. But seeing her displaying her talents in person was an entirely new phenomenon. Very rarely had he gotten to witness it for himself. But now that he could see it fully for perhaps the first time, there was no doubt that she was something special, just like he'd thought when he first met her way back in 1946. 

Then he stopped. He thought he saw something on her shoulder as she danced to the music. But in a flash it was gone again. As if it were never there. Alfred blinked. He stared at Marilyn's left shoulder, scrutinizing it closely. He tried to watch it over the waving arms of the soldiers, which made it difficult. But he had been sure. Something was there. Any flaws on such a flawless being must've been instantly noticeable. As Marilyn turned slightly in order for the soliders facing a different angle of her to see her better, he suddenly saw it again. It was barely noticeable, it was so small. But it was there. 

Alfred had seen over a hundred years of life in the most brilliant conditions, as well as the most horrid. He's seen the mansions of the wealthy, and the huts of the poor. He's seen the Chateau de Versailles in France, and he's witnessed the concentration camps in Germany. He knew enough to recognize what he was seeing on his friend. And when he did, he felt his stomach drop and felt as if ice water was running through him. 

"Oh... my God." 

 


	29. In Life In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.

September 15, 1954

 

The cool midnight air blew through the city as Alfred leaned against a lamp post on the set of the Seven Year Itch. He was waiting for the scene to begin shooting, but for now, extras were just milling around the set and preparing everything for the scene. He could see some of the actors standing as makeup artists worked on last minute touches to their looks. Marilyn was behind set getting her hair worked on. He hadn't seen her yet, but she'd said she would try to greet him before the scene began. Already a large, curious crowd was beginning to gather, murmuring excitedly. They had been invited to create hype for the upcoming film. 

Alfred was surveying this crowd when he caught sight of someone familiar. Joe was standing in his gray suit, hands shoved into his pockets, and he was looking all over the place, most likely for his wife. Joe's eyes seemed to lock on Alfred's, and he began to move past the crowd, making his way over to him. Alfred stood up straight as he approached. Joe looked calm, but a bit nervous. He moved to stand next to Alfred and looked out over the sidewalk where the scene would shoot. It was a typical sidewalk that passed by the theater where Marilyn and Richard Sherman's characters would walk out of after their date. "You alright, Joe?" Alfred asked him, trying to lighten his anxious mood. Joe chuckled. "Yeah. I think so. A friend of mine convinced me to go watch Marilyn perform. Something about moral support. I just don't think she'd want me here, watching her and making her more nervous." Joe fretted.

Alfred patted his friend on the back. It had been a long time since they'd last talked, and now things were just awkward. "Don't worry, man. She'll be happy to see you." Alfred said. Joe's shoulders relaxed slightly, just as the director's voice suddenly cut sharp through the cold wind and chatter of the crowd. "Okay! Prepare the scene! We shoot in two minutes!" He called out, and the extras began to clear the scene. The crowd got more antsy as they saw Richard Sherman walk out onto set, dressed in a suit and hat. His character, Tom Ewell, was a starring character along with Marilyn's, who didn't have a name. Sherman shook a few hands and photographers' cameras flashed brightly as he took his place on set, just outside the theater. It was then that Marilyn rushed from behind the set and made her way over to Sherman to stand with him. The crowds immediately cheered her, and the cameras went wild once more. Marilyn smiled grandly at them, subconsciously smoothing out her dress. She was in a white halter dress with a dramatically low v-neck. The dress flowed down to below her knees, but Alfred could tell that the dress could easily be lifted just by one good breeze from the way it fluttered around her. Alfred's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of her, but he quickly removed his gaze from her, not wanting her husband to see the look of longing on his face. 

After the two actors were in place, the director quieted the crowd, got the cameras and lights ready and began the scene. "Okay, and.... Action!" He called, and the two began to walk down the street. The cameras followed them as they spoke their lines. Marilyn spoke about her opinion of the movie their characters had seen. How she felt sorry for the creature, and that he wasn't all that bad in her opinion. She suddenly whirled her head to look down at the subway grate they were passing over, and moved to stand over one. "Oh, you feel the breeze from the subway?" Marilyn called excitedly as the fan under the grate flipped on. "Isn't it delicious?" The wind lifted her skirt high, better exposing her legs and white heels, until it was flying up over her head with only her hands feebly attempting to hold it down. The crowd cheered, photographers cooed, and Joe stood frozen next to Alfred with a look of horror on his face. If Alfred hadn't been so transfixed by the scene, he would've asked Joe if something was wrong. 

Then, the director called for a cut. Confused, Alfred silently looked around, as if someone had the answer to his questions. Why had the scene been cut? Did something happen? Richard and Marilyn also looked confused, but went along to move back to where they started to shoot the scene again. The director walked over to them and leaned in close, whispering a few words to them. Silence hung over the rest of the movie team as they watched. The only sound was of the wind and the crowd, which had grown in size. The two actors nodded and the director walked back over to his seat. He called for the scene to be re-shot, and the cameras moved back into place. Beside him, Joe looked positively incredulous. "Again? They're gonna shoot this scene again?" He muttered helplessly. He must not be that fond of so many people watching his wife's skirt fly up over and over. 

The scene was shot again. And again. And again. By the sixth time, Joe was completely livid. He was trembling in anger and Alfred stood by awkwardly, not knowing what to do to console him. He was going to try to say something to him, but Joe suddenly whirled around and stomped off the set, shoving people and photographers aside as he stormed away. Alfred looked over at Marilyn, who was looking back at him, an odd look on her face. He shrugged at her, and she frowned. But the scene still continued, and Marilyn continued to play her role with eagerness. It wasn't until about forty five minutes later that the director decided to end shooting for the night. The extras moved back onto the set to clean up all of their lights and equipment and the crowd slowly scattered with their pictures. 

As Alfred zipped up his infamous bomber jacket to walk to his car in the chill, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Marilyn standing in front of him. "Al, where did Joe go?" She asked him, concerned. "Oh, I don't know. I think your and his room. Why?" He asked. The girl didn't say anything for a long moment. Something flashed in her eyes for a moment, but it was too fast for Alfred to determine which emotion it was. "I was just wondering. Thank you." She said quietly before walking off to get her things. Alfred watched her go, wondering why she was acting so unusual. Just an hour or two ago, she seemed to be in very high spirits. Now she seemed reserved, almost cautious. He didn't forget the look he thought he saw in her eyes as he walked out to his car. Or when he was driving down the interstate, in the middle of his long drive to his home. 

He didn't know what compelled him, or why. All he knew was that he was driving down the road, and then he was making a sharp U-turn, causing a storm of honks and curses from the drivers around him. He sped back in the way he came from, and back towards Marilyn. 

* * *

 

He was already regretting making this choice. But he was already in the building, and there was no going back now. He just wanted to make one little check. Make sure that Marilyn was okay, and then he'd go back home. It would only take a minute. This was all just some mistake, a trick of the light that caused the flash in her eyes. Or he was just overreacting. Either way, he was walking down the hotel hallway in the direction of Joe and Marilyn's room. 

He stopped in front of the room number. The hallway was quiet, but Alfred could swear that he could feel his heart beat wildly in his chest in nervousness. He slowly brought his hand to the door, knocking on it loud enough to hear. It was silent for a few minutes. Alfred was beginning to wonder if they had left to go eat something or were just asleep, when he suddenly heard a soft sound from in the room. It was a harsh thump, as if someone had run into something, like a table or desk. He put his ear to the door to hear better.

"Sir?" Alfred nearly jumped a mile in the air and whirled around in the direction of the voice. In the hallway stood an old woman in a soft looking white robe. Her light blue eyes looked Alfred over curiously. "U-Um, yes ma'am?" He responded unevenly. The woman's face looked greatly concerned. She motioned to the door. "Are you here to investigate the couple in there? Have you heard the noises too?" She asked him. Confused, Alfred softly asked, "...noises?" 

"Me and a few others in the rooms here have been hearing terrible noises from this room. It sounds like a big argument, and the woman's been screaming an awful lot, and so has the man. I was just about to go downstairs to ask if someone could investigate this." Alfred's whole body felt frozen with shock and fear. Then, he heard a crash from inside the room, making both of them jump in surprise. He heard a voice cry out from inside. Alfred quickly turned back to the door, banging harshly on it with his fist. "Hey! Let me in!" Alfred called desperately. Nobody answered. The occupants seemed too busy to notice he was there. 

Now feeling panic fill him, he turned to the old woman. "Ma'am, go back to your room and get some sleep. I'm going to fix this." He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The woman slowly nodded hesitantly, turning and making her way to her room which was two doors down from Marilyn and Joe's. As soon as her door closed, Alfred backed up to lean against the wall directly across from the door. Silently praying that this would work, he lunged forward toward the door. He concentrated his weight and his super strength to slam into it, and heard a resounding  _crack!_ as the door gave way. He burst into the room and looked around wildly. There was a small and comfortable looking living room with a fluffy red couch and white table, and TV set placed on a drawer. To his right was a fine kitchen, and the two rooms were separated by a marble countertop. The only sign of a fight in these rooms was that the couch was positioned unevenly, as if someone was shoved into it and knocked it astray. 

He could hear the sounds of arguing coming from a room down a small hallway. Alfred rushed down it and took a right, which led to a door at the end. The voices inside the room were screaming mercilessly at eachother as Alfred made his way to the door. He could catch some words from the couple amongst the screams. "It's my life!" Was one shout. Another was "I will not take this anymore! You need to choose!" Alfred wasted no time in throwing open the door and rushing into the room. As soon as he did, everything stopped.

Alfred stood in place in the doorway, staring at what he was seeing. The bedroom was disheveled, glass was all over one part of the floor. The bed's blankets were all over the place. Random pieces of clothing and shoes and accessories were strewn all over the place as if they had thrown everything they possibly could at eachother. It looked as if a tornado had come through the room. And in the middle of the mess stood Joe and Marilyn, both now staring at Alfred with wide eyes. Joe was still in his suit and Marilyn in her white dress and makeup. An earring had been ripped from her ear, her cheeks were covered with the mascara that had been washed out by tears. There were bruises on her collarbone and arms. Deadly silence filled the room, and Alfred felt a feeling rise in him that he hadn't felt before. 

 _"What the hell!?"_ Alfred screeched. He turned on Joe.  _"What have you done!?"_ Joe glared at Alfred. "I don't see why you need to be- oomph!" Alfred was on him now, tackling him to the floor. The two grappled with eachother, throwing punches and kicks mercilessly. Marilyn cried out from the sidelines for them to stop, but nothing could've stopped Alfred in that moment. Alfred scrambled up, dragging Joe with him. Joe landed a punch to Alfred's nose, and it exploded in pain. In retaliation, Alfred shoved Joe, sending him flying over the desk in the room and sprawling to the floor. "Stop it!" Marilyn yelled, grabbing at Alfred's shirt collar. He gently shook her off and stormed over to where Joe was picking himself up off the floor, his clothes and hair disheveled. He had a distinctive black eye and busted lip, and Alfred didn't think he looked much better. But still his fury didn't die down. Joe lunged at Alfred, shoving him against the wall harshly. Alfred felt the walls shake with the force.

Alfred grabbed Joe by his hair and flipped them, slamming him head first into the wall, making the man cry out. Before he knew it, Joe had slammed his foot into Alfred's leg, and agony shot up it. He grunted, and before he knew it Joe was on him again. The two were then sprawled on the floor in the hallway that led to the bedroom. Marilyn was grabbing at the two, yelling for them to stop fighting and calm down. She yelped and backed away when Joe and Alfred rolled over and over, trying to choke eachother. Fists were flying, Alfred's vision was bright and a bit blurry, and Joe's scowling face was inches from his own, malice clear in his eyes. Alfred decided that enough was enough. He'd refrained from using super strength so that people would only think that he was a normal human. But Joe wouldn't go down any other way.

Alfred got a firm grip on Joe's arm and flung him off of him. Alfred scrambled up on his aching limbs, dragging Joe by his arm as Joe attempted to kick his feet out from under him. Alfred dragged him into the kitchen and flung him towards the kitchen table. Joe went flying into the wooden structure, making it collapse in on itself on impact. Charged silence filled the air as Joe lay crumpled in the mess, and Alfred's labored breathing filled the air. He sensed Marilyn standing behind him, and turned to look at her shocked and dismayed face. They looked at eachother then, and Alfred rasped the words that he'd realized since she came to Korea. "He beat you. You were being abused and you let it happen. Why... Wouldn't you tell me?" Marilyn looked outright ashamed, and her mouth opened and closed as if she meant to say something but decided against it each time. Her eyes looked wide and glassy, and she could scarcely bear to look him in the eye.

Alfred could taste metallic blood in his mouth, and the ache of his nose and mouth and limbs. Thanks to his being a nation, his injuries were slowly healing, but it could take one or two days for them to fully disappear. Realizing that Marilyn had nothing to say, Alfred slowly started toward her, his serious gaze locked on hers. Marilyn slowly backed away, her eyes widening slightly. "A-Alfred... Please, I... I didn't know what to say.. What to do.. I thought that I.." But Alfred didn't stop walking toward her, and Marilyn winced, expecting any moment for him to strike her or yell at her as he got closer and closer-

He grabbed Marilyn's arms and yanked her toward him. Before she could cry out, her lips were being pressed against his and his hands were weaving their way through her luscious blonde curls. Marilyn stood there, stunned, staring at Alfred's closed eyes. But soon, she felt herself relax in his embrace and her eyelids slide shut. She leaned against him, and Alfred felt his heart soar. He hooked an arm around her waist, moving her backward until the back of her knees hit the couch, and she tumbled over and onto it, Alfred landing on top of her. Her hands slid under his bomber jacket and moved over his shoulders tenderly, almost like a massage. It felt heavenly on his aching arms. Alfred's own hands explored the woman under him, but refused to let them go anywhere too indecent. She was still a married woman. 

His hands slid over her waist and traced her legs, and she quickly lifted them to wrap around Alfred's waist, pulling him dangerously close to her. He bit back a groan. If she kept this up, he would lose all his self control. He pulled away from Marilyn and both of them gasped for breath. Their foreheads were pressed together and they stared into each other's eyes. "Alfred," Marilyn breathed. "I.. Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?" Alfred pressed his lips against hers once more before pulling away again. "You were always so focused on your career, and then you started seeing Joe. I couldn't act on my affection." He whispered to her. Marilyn's eyes held a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. If I had known..." She trailed off. He smiled slightly. Her kiss seemed to make his injuries fade away like they were never there. "It's okay. At least I have right now." Marilyn smiled at him, and weaved her own fingers through his hair. Her hair and makeup was disheveled, but in her white dress, she still looked like an angel to him. 

Marilyn moved to take off his bomber jacket, and Alfred tensed. "Mary, I can't.." He said feebly. She looked at him in confusion. "Why not?" He looked away. "You're married. I can't just.. I don't... It's not right. I'm sorry." Alfred spoke softly, his eyes looking sadly at her. For eight years he'd been wanting her to be his, and now that he had the opportunity, having to reject her practically killed him inside. But he couldn't proceed like this. He refused to sleep with someone who was married, even if the marriage was unhappy. Marilyn moved her hands from his jacket and back up to his hair, stroking it gently. "I'll divorce him." She said determinedly. Alfred looked up at her. "What?" He asked, astonished. She smiled at him. "I'll divorce him. For you. For us." She repeated. Her eyes looked hopeful and wary. "It'll take a while to get it through a court and make it official. But I'll do it."

Alfred felt his breath leave his body, and his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he wondered if she could hear it. A smile slowly spread over his face. "God, I love you." He breathed. Without a beat, Marilyn cupped his face in her hands. "I love you too." She said, and pressed their lips together once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you know why I said 'You're welcome!'


	30. Copious Constellations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARILYN!!

October 4, 1954

 

The chill swept through California, making the remaining leaves shake on the trees. Their hues ranged from red to orange to yellow, and slowly they were falling from their branches, sweeping gently to the grass below. It wasn't very often that California had cool weather, so many people were out and about in the parks taking walks and enjoying the beautiful scenery of the changing leaves. Not all of the trees even changed during the fall time, or shed their leaves. But Alfred knew plenty of spots where you could view such scenes.

He was walking in one of the parks in California that he'd chosen. He was wearing blue jeans and a dark woolen overcoat, his hands shoved into his pockets. Next to him, Marilyn strode close to him, nearly pressed up against him. She was wearing tight jeans and fashionable high heeled black boots that clicked against the pavement as she walked. She had a soft purple jacket wrapped around herself, covering a light pink plaid shirt. She also kept her hands hidden in her jacket pockets. A white knitted cap topped her head, her curls flaring out from under it. She occasionally glanced over at him as they walked, as if expecting him to speak. But he wasn't much in the mood for talking today. He just wanted to take in the view and the cool air. She'd open her mouth, and then close it again and look back out over the forest as they walked along the secluded path. They'd only passed a few other people so far. 

"...So, Alfred. Tomorrow's the big day." She said after ten minutes of debating what to say. Alfred glanced over at her, smiling. "Uh huh. Do you want to go somewhere to celebrate or something?" He asked her. Marilyn smirked at him. "Oh, so you want to go out and toast wine over my divorce? How sympathetic of you." She crooned.  Alfred immediately flushed. "W-Well, I didn't mean... I just thought that-" Marilyn's laugh cut him off. "Calm down. I'm just teasing you." He immediately relaxed again, bringing his hand out of his pocket and slipping it into hers. Her cheeks were red, but Alfred couldnt tell if it was because of his actions or because of the chill. 

Tomorrow was the day that Marilyn would be granted a divorce from Joe. It had only been nine months. But they had still been some of the worst nine months of his existence. And she still had a lot of work to do in order to put this divorce behind her. She would be granted the divorce, but she also had a divorce hearing to attend afterwards, and then later on it would be decided if she would be granted a final divorce. The process could take up to a year or more to complete. Having decided that eight years was a long enough wait, Alfred and Marilyn agreed to start "seeing eachother" as a couple after she was granted the divorce, which was tomorrow. Alfred had been overjoyed, and had spent the past month with a sense of giddiness in him that usually wasn't present. Even Canada was curious as to what was making him so happy, but Alfred decided to wait until things were official to tell him. 

Marilyn and Alfred spent almost each night calling each other and talking with each other about anything and everything. They spoke for hours, often until one of them fell asleep. There was one particular conversation that Alfred remembered between them, a few nights after that big fight with Joe. It had been about midnight, and Alfred was sprawled out on a window seat couch in his bedroom, staring up at the night sky...

_The stars shone up in the night sky like tears in the fabric of space. Against his ear was placed a telephone, and he was carrying on a soft conversation with Marilyn, her quiet and tired voice feeling quite loud in the silence of night. She was staring out at the sky from her own window in her California apartment. She had a house with Joe, but after she decided to divorce him, she moved out._

_Alfred had always loved astronomy, and he was telling her about the constellations up in the sky when her yawn made him pause, his lips quirking up a bit. "Mary... You don't really care about this stuff, do you?" He mumbled knowingly. "Yes, yes of course I do!" Her voice stuttered. Sleepiness was clear in it. "It's just really late, and I haven't gotten much sleep lately. I'm sorry." Alfred sighed. There was a small silence. "If you want, I can call tomorrow or when you're feeling more refreshed?" He offered her softly. He could practically feel her smile through the slightly static telephone. Reception wasn't the best between her city apartment and his house out in the urban fields just outside of the city. He had houses in almost every state, some larger than others, but all located in pretty secluded areas. Especially the main house in Washington DC. The seclusion made it easier for a man with fifty children (mostly teenagers) to live out a normal life. But for now, Alfred's California house was empty._

_"No, I like listening to your voice. It helps me fall asleep." She said. "So you think my voice is boring? I am quite offended." "You know what I mean." Alfred chuckled quietly. There was more silence. Then, Alfred moved to sit up and positioned himself so that his elbows rested on the windowsill and his eyes peered out, taking in a broader view of the vast space in front of him. He pointed at the moon, despite the fact that Marilyn couldn't see it. "Look at the moon, Mary." He said. There was a bit of a shuffling sound, and then Marilyn spoke. "Okay." "You're looking at the same moon that Julius Caesar, Charlemagne, and Cleopatra looked at. They were all significant figures, and wealthy beyond belief. So why would they be able to see what the poorest, insignificant beggar could see? Why would someone so significant share the same air as someone who was just trying to make ends meet?" He asked her, lost in thought._

_She was silent. "I've often thought about this," Alfred continued. "And I came to realize that wealth or fame doesn't affect you. In the end, you still breathe the same air as everyone else. You still look out at the same moon. You still age. You still die." He whispered. "I also realized that everyone is on the same level. Maybe not in social status, but everybody has the chance to change the world. The fact that Caesar looked at the same moon everyone else looked that means something. It means that if Caesar can rise up and challenge the world and take up the mightiest empire known to man, so to can the carpenter in a little known town. There's so much meaning in the moon, and yet nobody ever seems to take the time to read it." His voice was whispery, and sounded far-off. Like he was in a dream state._

_"I never really... Thought of it that way..." Marilyn's voice trailed off. She sounded deep in thought. Alfred again pointed to an object in the sky. "And look there. The North Star." He mumbled. He realized that he was beginning to fall asleep. "What about it?" She asked him. "It's been there for God knows how long. It could be older than the sun for all we know. All that time, all that history, it's been a witness to it. It's seen all the wars and the peace. If it can survive so long, then why can't we survive our own troubles?" He asked her, almost defensive, as if his honor was being called into the question. But his voice was too quiet to make the tone really come through. Alfred couldn't see the smile formed on Marilyn's face, but she wished he could. But her eyes were hazy, and she felt herself beginning to fall under the influence of sleep. "You.. Should teach me more about this stuff later. Sounds interesting." She mumbled. She was met with silence. "...Al?" More silence. She could barely hear his soft, even breathing through the phone. She shut her eyes, not caring to hang up the phone. As she felt the grip of sleep take her under, she mumbled one last goodbye._

_"....I love you."_

_She was fast asleep by the time a sleepy voice managed to reply, "..Love you more."_

The wind picked up slightly, blowing Alfred's hair across his face. The sudden chill on his face woke Alfred from his memories, and he saw that the two were almost at the end of the path. Marilyn's hand was still clutched in his, and he subconsciously ran his thumb over her knuckles in a massaging gesture. She looked over at him then. "Hey, would you like to spend the night at my place soon? We haven't done that yet and I think that it would be a good start to, I dont know, break the ice a bit?" Alfred smiled down at her. "Sure, alright. I wouldnt mind. Just as long as nothing but kissing happens." She arched one eyebrow at him. "What're you trying to say, Jones? Im a sexual predator or something?" She challenged. Alfred gave her an unamused look. "I dont know, how about you stop seducing everybody who looks at you with one wink and then we'll see how you really are, hm?" Marilyn erupted into laughter, and Alfred thought helplessly to himself,  _'Lord, what've I gotten myself into?'_

But then, he couldn't say he minded the situation he found himself in, or the girl at his side. Perhaps this girl alone was merely another test; a test to see if he was strong enough or smart enough to know what to do with someone like her. Maybe that star was watching this episode too, waiting to see what outcome came of it and ready to remind the future generations of what love was like back all this time ago, when the world was just a little bit simpler. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one doesnt really have as much development as usual. I just wanted to give people a bit of fluff and see into the mind of one Alfred F. Jones (who canonically does like astronomy) and see what he was like beyond the whole 'Im the Hero!!' facade. I do believe that under that mask, he's a different person underneath, and that's the kind of person I try to emphasize in the story. Thats why he doesnt act all boisterous and overwhelmingly cheerful except in the presence of other nations in the story.


	31. Traitor to Turncoat

 

November 6th, 1954

 

"Admit it."

"No."

Ivan glared at Alfred from his place on the other side of the desk. The glare would've sent chills down the spine of any other nation, but Alfred wasn't the type to frighten of other nations so easily. Especially not USSR. The World Conference earlier had gone on as usual, except now there was a hint of tension, uncertainty, and fear in the air. Tensions had been running high not just in Alfred and Ivan's countries, but the paranoia had spread around the world. Not that Alfred blamed the others. Both Alfred and Ivan had access to incredible nuclear power, power that could annihilate the world in one move. All it took was just one little spark to make those bombs fly. 

"Don't play games with me, Comrade." Ivan growled through gritted teeth. His hands clenched into fists, but Alfred stared back at him unwaveringly. This wasn't the first time Ivan had been visibly pissed off in front of him, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. "I know you have spies. You have planes trying to get pictures of my bases. Trying to go by undetected. But you forget that you are not the only nation who knows of technology." 

Alfred leaned back into his chair, watching as Ivan shook with rage, gauging his reaction. He was dressed in his usual military suit, which was grayish or tan. A thick belt accentuated the muscles of his arms and torso under his clothes. Military medals gleamed on his breast pocket, which clinked loudly when he walked. His look was topped off with his military hat, a sure sign of prestige and power. His scarf was wrapped around his neck, like always. His ash gray hair stood out neatly underneath the hat. It made him look paler. Ruthless. 

Alfred finally sighed. "USSR, you don't seem to fully understand the situation here. Everyday you threaten me with bombs and destruction and the fall of capitalism. So why  _shouldn't_ I try to defend myself? You yourself seem to agree with me, seeing as my men have intercepted plenty of Russian spies. So clearly you understand that I'm doing what I need to for the sake of my own survival and the safety of my people and government and you are also doing the same. That's doesn't just make you a bigot; that makes you a hypocrite."

Large gloved hands slammed down on the desk so hard that Alfred was afraid that the desk would crumble to dust. The wood held strong though, and a hand quickly snapped out and gripped Alfred's tie. Before he could react, Alfred found his face so close to Ivan's that he could see the details of his eyes up close. They were light purple, with little flakes of silver that were previously unnoticeable. Alfred could also see his own reflection in Ivan's angry eyes. But still he didn't flinch under the snowy nation's malicious glare. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Comrade." Ivan's voice was rough and low, like a warning tone. "You are a child. An idiotic one who exploited your brothers' weak countries for your own benefit. That is why you have so much power, but you do not know how to use it. I am watching you. There is no place on Earth you can hide from me. I have walked this Earth thousands of years before you were even a thought. And I have great power. I have superior numbers of bomber planes. I have the nuclear bombs and the means to launch them. Do not doubt that of me, Fredka." 

Alfred was silent as USSR roughly pushed Alfred back into his chair, releasing his tie, which was now crumbled and tousled. His blue eyes watched Ivan's back as he made his way to the door of Alfred's office. He opened it and made to leave, but then stopped in the doorway. Slowly, he turned back around, and this time, there was a cool smirk on his face. 

"And don't forget, Comrade. I have spies everywhere. Don't think I don't know what you try to hide from me. There is nowhere you can be safe from my eyes."

* * *

 

"Alfred," A soft voice spoke to him. "Alfred, are you alright, dear?" 

Alfred blinked up at the plain white ceiling. He hadn't moved for a long while from his place on Marilyn's couch. He'd been too consumed in his thoughts of Ivan. His words kept replaying in his head, and he found that he could not tune it out.  _There is nowhere you can be safe from my eyes._ It took him a while to register Marilyn's voice when she spoke, but when he did, he turned his head to look at her.

She was seated in a plush chair across from Alfred and the couch, in a light blue silk nightgown and white slippers. A mug of coffee was clutched in her hand with the words **100% Better Than You** written on it. She had decided to take a lazy day today and stay inside in comfortable clothing and her favorite old films. Alfred hadn't bothered to change out of his suit, despite the fact that he hated them. He merely took off his shoes once inside and placed them next to the door before trudging over and throwing himself onto her couch. She had raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't question him and instead offered him comfort. 

"Yeah," Alfred mumbled. "I'm fine. Just had a stressful day, that's all." She hummed in understanding, sipping at her coffee. "So, anything happen to  _you_ today?" Alfred asked. Marilyn drummed some of her fingers on the side of the mug and bit her lower lip. Alfred sighed and closed his eyes. "What happened." "It didn't really happen to me, per se. It's just... I heard from a friend about a very interesting.. Scene yesterday." Alfred looked at her incredulously. "'Scene?' What're you talking about?" 

"Apparently Joe isn't as willing to put our relationship behind us as I am." "...What did he do." "According to my friend, he and a friend of his went to the bar last night to get some drinks. The topic of our divorce came up and apparently they came up with the idea that I had been... Seeing another man while I was married to Joe. They believed that that was the real reason I wanted a divorce, and they decided to try to catch me in the act." At this, a small smile appeared on her lips. "They broke into my hotel room later that night, convinced that they had caught me in bed with another man. Or that's what they thought. It turns out that they... Got the wrong hotel room. Ended up scurrying like mice caught sight of by a cat." She finished, clearly amused. There was a short lapse of silence before Alfred erupted into laughter. 

"O-Oh my God! That's gold!" He cried, clutching at his sides as he laughed, imagining the scene in his head. Marilyn giggled. "Yes. It must've been a very embarrassing sight." It took ten minutes for Alfred to calm down. He held out a hand to her from where he was laying on the couch afterwards. Curious, she slowly got up from her chair and made her way over to him, taking his hand and sitting down on the couch by him. "Just let me know if he tries anything else on you. Don't want a guy like that going out and terrorizing my lady, now do we?" He winked at her. Marilyn blushed, smiling softly at him. She then adjusted herself so that her legs were placed on either side of him and she sat on his torso. His hands gently held her waist, keeping her steady as she looked down at him and he, with his head being supported by the arm rest of the couch, looked up at her. 

Alfred remembered seeing many previous Hollywood legends before. And all of them had been beautiful. Jean Harlow, Lucille Ball, Vivien Leigh, they had all been stunning in their own ways. But none had managed to captivate him the way the woman staring down at him did. He supposed that it might always be a mystery as to why she was so different. But he didn't mind mysteries every so often. They gave him something to think about; something that could provide him with hopes and ideas. He smiled up at her, and she smiled back, leaning down to kiss him softly. They were a couple now. It had been official for about a month now. He wondered if the Alfred 8 years in the past would've believed him if he'd told him how much would change within such a short time for a nation. He suspected not, and the thought only made him giddier. 

He let his hands travel lightly over her, almost ghosting, as she rested her hands on his chest. Alfred let his hands stop lower on her legs, around her knees instead of where they originally where on her waist. He silently thanked God for the looseness of the nightgown. Plus the fabric was incredibly soft. It almost made him not want to do anything at all and just cuddle up against her. Still, he kept his fingers in their place, around the jumbled hem of the nightgown. He felt his heart begin to race, his hands begin to shake. He silently cursed his nerves, but there was no way to calm himself. Especially since her hands were buried in his hair and she was kissing him eagerly, softly nibbling at his lower lip. 

His shaking fingers slowly moved to go underneath the fabric. They moved so tantalizingly slow that it looked as if they were barely moving at all. His fingers only made it about an inch before a knock came at the door. Marilyn jerked her head up, and Alfred immediately moved his hands back to his sides, abandoning his efforts to his relief and disappointment. After a moment, Marilyn clambered off of Alfred and made her way over to the door. With a quick glance back at Alfred, she opened it. A man in a light blue uniform stood in the doorway, holding a small package of letters in his hands. He smiled at her. "Mail just got here, Miss Monroe." 

He held out the package to Marilyn, who grabbed it and thanked the worker. Closing the door, she began shifting through the letters as she made her way back to her chair. She sat down, bringing her knees up to her chin as she scanned each letter, Alfred watching awkwardly from the couch. One letter seemed to interest her, as he saw a flash of shock and of something else he couldn't immediately identify in her eyes as she stared down at it. "Mary... Are you okay?" Alfred asked her warily. The look on her face didn't look too reassuring. 

Shd jumped slightly, as if she'd forgotten he was there. "O-Oh, sorry dear. Yes, I'm alright. Just.. A letter from a friend of mine." She said. She put the rest of the mail to the side and opened the letter, pulling out a neatly folded letter on crisp white paper. As she read it, Alfred could detect nervousness obvious in her posture. He raised an eyebrow. There was clearly something she wasn't telling him. But why? "Mary, what's wrong? There's something you're not saying.." Her anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold, but he admitted that she was doing a pretty good job of hiding it. But he didn't miss the very slight twitches of her fingers or quick glance of her eyes.  

"Al, I'm fine. It's nothing to worry about." Alfred sat up, clearly not convinced. "Did something happen? Is it Joe? Because if something serious is wrong, you shouldn't try to hide it. I could help you-" "No!" She suddenly yelled. Alfred was silent, staring at her suspiciously. No... Something else was going on here. Marilyn's face contorted into regret. "Look, Alfred, I just- Hey!" She cried out as Alfred lunged for the letter. The two ended up crashing together, falling to the floor and wrestling with eachother like children. "You're trying to hide something from me, aren't you!" He yelled as they struggled, Alfred reaching for the letter and Marilyn trying to fight him off. Alfred wanted to know what the letter said, but of course he didn't want to actually hurt her in the process. 

After a few minutes, Marilyn seemed to get worn out from the wrestling, and in one quick move Alfred snatched the letter as Marilyn cried out. He quickly tried to scan over it while keeping her at a distance. He didn't want to put his nose into her personal matters, but he wouldn't hesitate to do so if he thought it was what was best for her. The letter at first seemed casual enough. The first few paragraphs explained opinions on books and plays, and inquiring about how she felt about certain plays. The last few paragraphs were what got his attention. The writer was writing about spending time with her; how they liked the previous meetings they'd had, and how he'd been interested in more. Usually this wouldn't bother him, but the way it was worded made it really suggestive. It was like he was describing dates, and then was informing her that he approved of furthering a relationship into something more. The revelation made his blood run cold in his veins. He took a glance at the name on the bottom, and felt his eyes widen. 

_Arthur Miller._

He vaguely recognized him as a popular playwright. "What the hell is this!?" Alfred screeched, jumping to his feet and glaring at the letter. He then turned to look at Marilyn, who was sitting up on the floor. "Is this what you were trying to hide from me? Are you seeing someone else?" He cried, total shock making him feel as if this was some horrible nightmare. But the racing of his heart and the chills running down his spine were reminders that this was all too real. Marilyn moved to her feet, shaking her head rapidly. "No! It's not like that!" She explained. "It's.. It's complicated." Alfred glared. "Oh really?" He said sarcastically. "Yes!" She said. "We hung out a few times before when I went to New York a few months ago and you were busy doing other things. He's a famous playwright and I just wanted to meet him. We had a good time, and went to other events later. But then he started dropping hints or saying things to me, and I was trying to figure out what to do; how to respond." She explained hopefully. 

"But-But he's married! With kids! What, is he just gonna divorce her?" Alfred asked. Marilyn shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure.." He looked at her then. "You're not gonna say yes to this guy, are you?"

She looked to the floor. Then, quietly she said, "I don't know." Alfred's heart probably just skipped ten thousand beats. "What do you mean you  _don't know?_ " His voice came out harsher than he meant, but it was becoming hard to hide his hurt. "I thought we were dating!" "We are! It's just, you're not the only one I've had feelings for before." Marilyn said nervously. Alfred was stunned, feeling the familiar sting of tears behind his eyelids. He forced them back. "My time after deciding to divorce Joe was harsh. I took comfort in a lot of friends. He was also one of them. Yes, I love you, Alfred. I love you more than the others I care for. And I'm working to stop caring for them and focus only on you." She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Alfred involuntarily flinched away. 

"...No." He said quietly. She stared at him. "What..?" He turned away from her. "I waited... Eight years for you. I defended you and comforted you.. And within a month of finally having you, you contemplate leaving me? Or worse, cheating on me?" He whispered harshly. He could already feel some of his tears fall from his eyes. "A-Alfred.. I'm so-" "Don't. Just, don't. If you aren't even one hundred percent sure that you want to be with me, then don't bother."

And with that, he walked to the door, picked up his shoes, and quickly left, slamming the door behind him. As soon as Alfred was alone in the hallway, he burst into tears, a shaky hand covering his mouth. Slowly, he made his way down the hallway and to the elevators. He felt sure that he must've left his heart in that room with the girl who would do nothing but crush it. 


	32. Estranged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENJOY TEENAGE GIRL!ALFRED

January 7th, 1955

 

The snow blowing outside the window reminded Alfred of the cold, empty feeling in his chest. And the coldness of the chocolate ice cream he was shoveling in his mouth. The sky had darkened to nighttime a while ago, and that's when a pretty bad snowstorm decided to hit New York. Not that it was too out of the ordinary for the state during this time of year, anyway. Alfred had been staying cooped up in his New York home for the past few weeks, rarely leaving the tranquil safety of his bed. He'd made sure to finish all of his paperwork a few days ago so that he could mourn his loss in peace for once. And with tousled hair, pajamas, dark shadows under his eyes, and a large tub of ice cream and a spoon, mourn is what he was doing. 

Of course, getting over his breakup would be a lot easier if New York would lower the volume of the television in the livingroom downstairs. Despite the fact that Alfred was listening to  _Gone With The Wind_ at a high volume, he could still hear the sounds of the show Mark was watching. He could tell that it was a kind of press conference. A press conference involving his ex. He groaned in annoyance after what felt like forever of having to listen to that damn press conference about how Marilyn was starting her own movie company or something like that. As if just what he needed was to hear about how Marilyn was succeeding and moving on in her career and establishing her own company while Alfred wondered if there was more ice cream in the fridge. 

Alfred set down his ice cream on his bed and climbed off the mattress, making his way out of his room and down the hallway towards the staircase with an extra pillow in hand. At the top of the stairs, he yelled down to New York, "Would you turn that down!? Some people are trying to get over their movie star ex girlfriend over here!" New York turned to look up at him from his place on the couch as Alfred spoke. He had dark brown hair that was usually gelled back and combed neatly, but was now a curly mess on his head. His hazel eyes studied Alfred with a hint of amusement. And amusement was not what Alfred wanted to see right now. Before Mark could speak, Alfred threw the pillow at him with force, hitting him in the face and knocking him down against the couch. "Ow!" He called out. Alfred turned and made to go back to his room when Mark spoke again, obviously choosing his words carefully. 

"W-Wait, dad! I think we've gotta talk!" Alfred paused, and sighed wearily. "No, Mark. I'm not going to get you a pet snake. We all know what happened the last time you wanted a snake and you broke into Texas' room to take his." He turned his face slightly to peek over his shoulder at Mark, who pouted for a second before composing himself. "That's not what I meant!- Although, we can still talk about that later. Because it's not fair to let Texas get a snake and not me." Alfred rolled his eyes. "He got one because he-" "Dad. Just look at this." Mark interrupted, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of snakes for now. After a moment of silence, Alfred slowly turned around and made his way down the stairs to where Mark sat on the couch in a Batman t-shirt and sweatpants. 

New York pointed to the television set. On it, the screen displayed a long table draped in black cloth. Seated at the table was Milton Greene, dressed in a pressed suit. Beside him sat Marilyn Monroe, her hair as curly as ever and her features just as angelic. A wave of emotions overcame him as he looked at her: anger, sadness, confusion, heartbreak, among a mix of many more. He glared at the tv. "What am I looking at." He stated, irritated. Mark gave Alfred a pleading look. "Dad, look at her. She's out and trying to move on with her life. She's starting her own production company. Marilyn Monroe Productions. She just released a new movie, I think it's called "There's No Business Like Show Business." And what've you been doing?" Alfred pointedly looked away from him. "Exactly." New York pronounced. "You need to get a hold of yourself! You can't let this break up be the end of you. You need to take a shower, dress nicely, and go out to treat yourself to dinner. You've gotta move on, dad." 

Getting advice from your own son is emberassing enough. But what was also embarrassing was knowing that he was right.

"C'mon. How about you go get ready, and when you're done, you and I and the others go out to dinner? Sound fun?" Mark pressed. Alfred was silent, contemplating in his mind. Perhaps this night could help him really get over Marilyn. Maybe some time out with his kids was really what he needed. Besides, he was willing to do whatever it took to get over her. He looked back up at Mark, defeated. "Alright, fine." He mumbled, getting up to head back upstairs to take a shower. Mark cheered and leapt up from the couch to go tell the other states that were currently at the house. 

* * *

 

Alfred padded through the hallway from the bathroom and into his room a few doors down, leaving slightly wet footprints on the deep red carpet. He shut the door behind him, one hand scrubbing his hair dry with a towel while another towel was wrapped around his waist. He sighed, tossing the towel for his hair onto his bed and pulling out some casual clothing from his dresser. As he dressed, he willed his mind to think of the good things, but he couldn't really think of anything that was good going on. Ivan was still being a nuisance, and his people were still fighting in the Korean War. He supposed maybe his boss was a highlight. Eisenhower was pretty favorable in the public eye, which was impressive given the circumstances he was in. His economic plans were also impressive; he just hoped he would be able to pull them through Congress without a civil war. 

Pulling on his socks and shoes, Alfred glanced quickly in his full length mirror to make sure he was ready. He was in jeans and an American themed shirt. He ran his hand through his damp hair once to give it the slightly messy but endearing quality it always had. Then he grabbed his wallet and stuffed it in his pocket as he made his way back downstairs and towards the foyer, where he heard a lot of voices chattering. He walked in to see Mark, dark hair gelled back now and in a fresh change of clothes, leaning against the far wall. Around him were five other teenagers; three girls and two boys. He recognized them immediately. 

To the right of Mark was a shorter boy with bright blond hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in black trousers and had a grey hoodie on, covering his shirt. Alfred hadn't seen Wyoming, also known as Samuel, in a while. He'd been staying here for the past two days while awaiting a meeting in DC over his state reform policies. The meeting wasn't for about a week, so he decided to visit Alfred before then. To the other side of Mark, a slightly taller man leaned against the wall in blue jeans and light blue button up shirt. A cowboy hat, his prized possession for years, sat atop his head. Other than that, he looked like a carbon copy of Alfred, his most noticeable difference being the lack of Nantucket. Texas, or Austin, grinned when he caught sight of Alfred. "Hey, pops!" He crooned, and Alfred couldn't help but grin back. 

"Hey, Tex! Looking as handsome as ever I see." Alfred joked, making Austin chuckle. "Well of course!" The three girls stood against the opposite wall to the boys. Two of them looked exactly alike: tanned skin, dark eyes, and dark brown hair that cascaded over their hair in waves. They both wore jeans with similar jackets. One of the jackets was pink and the other was purple. The girl in the pink jacket, North Dakota, was slightly taller than the girl in the purple one, South Dakota. Alfred had named them Ruby for the North and Amethyst for the South, after the precious stones. The last girl had a slightly darker skin tone than the others, and thick black curls framed her face. Her eyes were also dark brown. She had a red jacket on and a plaid scarf tucked under her hair. Black boots covered a part of her jeans. New Mexico, or Maria, preferred to read books or study astronomy, but he always liked talking to her about various sciences and enjoyed when she spent time with him and her siblings. 

"Dad!" Ruby and Amethyst cried, rushing over to hug him. Alfred lost his breath as they crashed into him, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around both of them. They hadn't been here yesterday, so they must've gotten here not too long ago. "Calm down, girls! It's not like I died or anything!" He called desperately, a stupid smile still on his face. Amethyst looked up at him, eyes shining. "Yeah, but we heard from a few other states that you weren't feeling too good these days. That you were feeling really upset. So we hurried over as soon as we could." Alfred didn't know what else to say, so he just tousled her hair playfully. "Well, thank you for coming. This house was beginning to miss ya!" Amethyst giggled in response.

After everyone got re-acquainted, they set off to the restaurant in Alfred's car. The snow storm had eased greatly, and snowflakes were now falling gently once more in the chilly breeze. Still, he enjoyed seeing the world covered in nothing but untouched, white snow. He almost felt remorseful when they arrived at the café they all loved and had been going to for years now. There were Christmas lights still shining across the top of the restaurant and the door, which probably would be taken down after all of the snow finally passed. The group of seven walked into the café and immediately went and found an empty table next to a window that showed a view of the street and the cars speeding by and the people walking along the sidewalk outside.

Abigail quickly rushed over to them when she saw them. Her eyes glowed with excitement. She hasn't changed too much; maybe she looked a little bit older. But her uniform dress still looked as clean and pressed as ever. Typical Abigail. "Oh, Alfred! It's been a while since I've seen you here. I was wondering if you'd ever come back?" Alfred smiled up at her from his seat. "Of course! I couldn't bear to give up your nagging over my health all the time." Abigail swatted at him playfully with her notepad, then proceeded to write down their orders. 

Ruby and Amethyst both wanted two blueberry muffins and juice; Austin wanted a slice of apple pie; Maria wanted a cup of tea and a cinnamon roll; Mark picked a hot fudge brownie and water; and Samuel just wanted some coffee and a banana muffin. Alfred himself ordered the famous pie he always got, and he tried to quel the lurch of his heart when he remembered who he had often shared that pie with. Abigail smiled knowingly at him, already knowing he'd order the same thing. With a promise that the food would be out shortly, she turned and scampered off towards the kitchen with her order. He supposed that this wasn't exactly 'dinner' material, but apparently a lot of the states had eaten earlier, so he might as well just go snacking with them instead. 

"So, Mark. How are the others doing? From what I hear, a lot of them are busy with their governments and such." Alfred inquired, referring to his other states. Although he made sure to keep in contact with all of them as much as he could (calling 50 children every night to wish them a good night's sleep and say he loved them often became tiring, but it was worth it to hear them say 'I love you, too' to him) a parent could never quite get as close to a child as their siblings could. "They're doing fine, I hear." He said simply. "Not much to say about them, really."

Their table was circular, and the way everybody was sitting made it so that it started from Alfred, then to his right was Maria, then Amethyst, then Samuel, then Ruby, then Mark, and then Texas was on the other side of Alfred. Texas grinned mischievously from next to Alfred. "I reckon that Carrie's got herself another boyfriend!" Alfred had to give Texas a look of warning. "Austin, if you're planning on making fun of your sister, then don't. I really dont need another war on my hands." Texas held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do nothin'! I swear!" 

Maria raised one delicate eyebrow. "That's what you said when our storage of fireworks mysteriously went missing," she pointed out. "Then we get a call not five minutes later about tons of fireworks exploding in the White House. And then you had to pay for all the damages done." Texas mumbled too himself, "Nearly got myself knee deep in debt with that bill." Alfred rolled his eyes. These things were quite typical of Texas. His adventures ranged from trying to host his own rodeo in their backyard (he was  _still_ paying off that bill) to creating his own band (which had actually been pretty successful until a fire started due to faulty equipment at one of his performances in a club, causing the place to burn down.) About 99% of Austin's plans or adventures usually resulted in something burning down, or just ending up destroyed beyond recognition. 

Their conversation continued until their orders were brought out to them. It was when they were eating that Alfred always felt a sense of peace fill him when his gaze would travel around the table at his children. Although he enjoyed their conversations, nothing was more satisfying to him than seeing them eating, happy, surrounded by their siblings. It was one of the many things Alfred always thanked God for, even if he wasn't always as attentive to religion as his citizens. Now that he thought about it, chewing on his slice of pie, he couldn't remember how he had been able to survive life without the states in his life. He just remembered being immensely lonely for most of his childhood, living in a grand manor in relative isolation from the city. Except for the maids who were always present to clean and cook, he hadn't really had anybody or any friends to talk to. England rarely even came to visit him. He grew up surrounded by isolation and lessons on math and politics and literature and history being shoved in his face, and now that he was all grown up, he didn't know what it was like to feel truly carefree. Such were the things that childhood was supposed to give you. 

He'd taken those lessons he had learned from his own experiences when the states started appearing. Ever since he gazed down into little Delaware's bright blue eyes for the first time, he'd felt an adoration in him that lasted as he held the other states later on. He wanted to give them the childhood that he never got. He wanted them to understand and enjoy the feeling of being carefree. So he spent as much time with his children as possible when they were infants and toddlers. He was there for them when they said their first words, and was there to encourage them to take their first steps. He home schooled all of them, and he scolded them whenever they broke a rule. He taught all of them various skills, whether it be playing an instrument or studying a science, and got other states lessons for things like dancing, singing, playing a sport, or doing gymnastics. 

The result was that all of the states had their own unique passions or skills. He remembered listening to a physically ten year old Virginia as she practiced her political terms and fundamental governmental structures. He could remember her at the physical age of fifteen, already assisting her governors and representatives with law proposals and reforms. He'd cried when he first heard her give a speech to Congress about human rights. He remembered teaching New Mexico about chemical science and astronomy, and how excitedly she had pushed herself to learn more from books and lessons after Alfred taught her the basics. The Dakota twins both worked together to come up with new and inventive ways to help the economy and create jobs, and Texas had worked with show horses in jumping competitions and steeplechasing. New York had taken to the talents of lawyers, and had been studying for years to help in court cases. 

All of them had found their dreams and were off chasing them, while Alfred watched them with nothing but pride. Despite the fact that he had had a miserable childhood, and had gone through unimaginable horrors for his family and people, he could never regret all of those things when he looked into the eyes of his children and saw what wonderful young adults those experiences made of them. He felt a tap on his shoulder, startling him. He looked up to see Maria looking at him, her eyes confused. "Dad," she said. "Are you alright? You've just been staring down at your pie for a while now." Alfred made to speak when Texas' voice cut him off. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were fallin' in love with the thing!" 

"Texas!" They all groaned at the same time. 

"What!?" 


	33. Chaotic Choices

January 9th, 1955

 

It was around twelve in the afternoon when he got the call.

He was sitting in his living room and holding up paint samples in front of him, trying to decide on a good color to repaint the walls, which had started to chip. The house was very, very old and had to get some work done every few years or so to keep it in the best condition. He was alone in the house for now, and he'd decided to get some choices made regarding the New York house while he had the chance. He'd most likely be busy with paperwork in a few days. 

As he held up the light blue and beige colors, trying to see which would go best with the red carpet, the telephone resting on a small wooden table in the corner began to ring, the shrill sound cutting into the quiet. He sighed, tossing the samples down on the coffee table and rising to his feet. He wondered if it was Mattie. He was supposed to come over for a visit later today for some "brotherly bonding" time. Maybe something had come up unexpectedly. 

He picked up the phone, placing it up to his ear. "Hello?" There was a brief pause, as if the caller was really shy. Eventually, a voice spoke from the other line, soft and quiet as a whisper on the wind. "Alfred.." The voice said. Alfred felt himself freeze, felt his heart drop into his stomach. A strange surge of ice coldness traveled down his spine, giving him goose bumps. "M-Marilyn.."

She took a deep breath. She sounded as awkward and cautious as Alfred was feeling. Her voice had brought him so much joy in the past nine years, and he suddenly felt like all the time he had taken to build this wall around his emotions after the Arthur Miller incident were suddenly wasted as these walls came crumbling down at the mere sound of her voice.  _Damn it, Alfred. When will you ever learn?_ Of course he shouldn't have expected nine years of history to be just washed down the drain in a few weeks, but he hadn't imagined getting over her to be this hard before. It felt as if deep inside of him, there was a very faint noise that was calling to her. That was calling to him to go to her. And he couldn't let that voice win. 

"Alfred, I.. I need to talk to you." She said, trying to give nothing of her feelings away with a monotone voice, but bits and pieces were still shining through. She was nervous, upset, scared, and a million other things rolled into one person. And it only made Alfred feel worse. "What... Is there to talk about?" He asked her, incredulous. Her calling him was a pretty bold move. Obviously she had some plan that she thought would win him over. But he was fighting for control over his emotions; fighting for control over his heart. He couldn't let her in. Not after what she did. 

"I need to explain what happened to you." Alfred gripped the receiver tightly. "I don't need an explanation. I know enough. And I was hoping not to be reminded of it again." He cut out each word with venom laced into his voice. His attempt at sounding mad had succeeded by the sound of it. She took in a ragged breath, much like one would do when trying not to cry. A pang of a bitter emotion flashed in his chest, but he didn't care to know if it was fury or guilt. 

"Please. Just let me try to fix this. I know what it looked like. I want to try to make things right again." She begged. Alfred was silent again, trying to keep his emotions in line. He didn't know if it was the urge to yell or cry that was rising in his chest, but a very heavy emotion was working its way into him. He also didn't know what he was supposed to say; if he should refuse to listen to her excuses or give her a chance. But he did know that if he gave her a chance, he knew there was a risk of getting himself involved into a very messy situation. Even if he were to forgive her, where would that lead him? She was secrely seeing Arthur Miller now, a fact that made him seethe with rage whenever he was mentioned. Did he just expect this whole incident to be wiped away, like nothing ever happened? 

Of course, he also didn't want to be  _rude_ to her. Conflicted, Alfred came up with the best response he could come up with. A response that could buy him some time. "L-Look, Marilyn. I really just need a little bit more time to myself. I can't deal with this right now, not until I understand what I want and where I want to go with this now. I'm sorry, but I can't hear you out, not yet." He heard her take another inhale of breath. Trying to keep a composed voice, she responded with a grave, "Alright. Just.. Let me know when you're ready to talk. I'll be here to listen." She said quietly. Alfred agreed with her before hanging up the phone. 

He moved and sat back down on the couch. For some reason, the silence now seemed much louder than the ringing telephone. 

* * *

 

"You really don't know what to do, don't you?" Matthew asked from where he was sitting in Alfred's living room chair. He wore his usual red sweater and jeans, Kumajiro perched in his lap snugly. Alfred sighed to himself, laying flat on his back on his couch and staring up blankly at the ceiling. "Nope." Canada's reaction was to chuckle at him, which Alfred didn't like too much. "Alfred, I think that the answer to your problem is obvious." Alfred glared at him. "Are you just gonna sit there and tease me with my level of intelligence or are you actually gonna help me?" 

Matthew leaned back in his seat. "Look, what you need to do is simple. Regain a friendship status with her." Alfred immediately started, the words of 'lying' and 'untrustworthy' on the tip of his tongue, but Matthew held up a hand and silenced him. "I'm not telling you to become best friends like you used to. Or to get back together, especially seeing as she's apparently seeing someone right now." Alfred flinched. "What I'm saying is to  _talk_ to her. Get her side of the story. Understand each other. If there isn't some semblance of understanding or communication, you will never resolve any conflict." 

Alfred was silent, mulling over his words. Canada continued, "You don't even have to continue being friends if you don't want to. But the least you could do is clear things up with her so that you don't end things on a bad note, eh. From the way you described your phone call with her when I arrived, she was feeling pretty guilty and upset over this. Nothing could be more cruel than to just leave and let her go on with this guilt for the rest of her life. Besides, maybe she didn't mean to do what she did. Maybe you took it a different way." Alfred was now having to make a choice, then: did he want to at least reconcile with her and resume their friendship, or did he want to clear things up with her but cut off their friendship once and for all? 

The choice was eating at him like termites to fresh wood. He closed his eyes in thought before opening them again. "I... I don't know what to do.." He said, whispering. "I don't know. I just don't know." His voice must've sounded defeated and broken, because Matthew was now giving him a look of such pity and sorrow that America couldn't look him in the eye. He cleared his throat. "Well.. How about you just think about it for a while, eh? And in the meantime, we can watch some of those new films you've told me about."

After a while, America nodded, his mind made up. "Yeah, okay, we can do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will Alfie baby choose!? OOooOooOOOH? 
> 
> Oh and sorry this chapter isn't as long as others. The subject I planned for this chapter was kind of a brief one, but you'll get a lot more material in later chapters!


	34. Ultimatum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a little warning, this chapter involves a sensitive subject and might be a trigger to some people with a history relating to the subject! Of course, I will attempt to keep references to this particular subject at a minimum, but it is also a part of Marilyn's story!

 

January 15, 1955

 

Alfred blinked as he looked at his television, watching the musical characters singing about how the war has changed their lives. The past few days had been rather calm for once. His states were off with their respective governors, Mattie had left after spending the night at the house, and Alfred was left to think over his decision. Obviously, he'd only ended up trying to push the choice to the back of his mind for a while. He needed some relaxing time to let himself feel like there were no problems at all in his life. Only, whenever he opened his eyes, he remembered that he had a lot of problems. 

He received yet another reminder of this sad fact when his phone suddenly began to ring. He groaned, picking himself up from the couch and dragging his feet over to the table where the phone sat. If this was France trying to sell him more of his  _'special formula,'_ he was going to fly over to France himself and kick his foot up the nation's ass so hard, he could taste the material of the shoe. He picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?" " _Privyet, Amerika!"_ Ivan's stupidly smug voice came through. Alfred resisted the urge to groan, almost wishing that it was actually France calling instead. Almost. At least France wasn't a complete douchebag. "What." Alfred didn't even bother trying to sound polite. He let his annoyance seep deep into his words. Ivan's voice tsk'ed at him a few times, disappointed, "Ah, Comrade. That is no way to talk to a fellow nation, hm?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "I'm hanging up." 

 _"Wait."_ Ivan growled as Alfred moved to hang up the phone. Alfred hesitated before deciding to bring the receiver back up to his ear. "Yes?" He asked impatiently. "I just wished to inform you that the next World Meeting is being held early next year, in Britain's country." USSR drawled, sounding bored. Alfred narrowed his eyes. "And why are  _you_ the one telling me this?" He could almost  _sense_ Ivan smirk. "Germany is a little.. Occupied. He asked me to call the nations instead of him." Alfred bit back with a smirk of his own, "Doesn't Germany know better than to let disease-ridden animals schedule important meetings?" "Watch yourself," Ivan growled through clenched teeth. 

"Anyways, thanks for letting me know. I'll be getting back to my work now." Alfred dismissed, trying to avoid the fact that his 'work' was just watching stupid films. But just before Alfred could hang up, Ivan spoke up. "Alright. Have fun with your work. Hopefully you haven't screwed your relationship over with her too badly." Alfred froze, feeling like ice cold water had poured down his spine. After what felt like minutes of silence, he slowly brought up his slightly shaking hand with the phone in it back up to his ear. "W-What.. Wh-" 

"Goodbye, Alfred." And the line went dead. All that was left was the constant shrilly noise that signaled that the other caller had hung up. Eventually, Alfred put the phone back down too, his heart racing. 

 _There is no where you can be safe from my eyes._ Ivan's words from the last face-to-face conversation they'd had rang out in his mind, and made his heart race faster. He knew. He knew about Marilyn. He knew. How? How did he learn this? A spy? Where? When? How long? How much does he know? A million questions and more were swirling in his mind, making Alfred have to brace himself against the table with his hands. She wasn't safe. That was about the only thing Alfred was sure of. 

In the little time that Alfred had forced himself to think over this decision, he knew that he couldn't bear to just cut her out of his life. He was greatly considering giving at least an attempt at a friendship with her. A fresh start. That was what they both needed. Obviously, they didn't understand enough about the kind of relationship they would have if they did get together. They should've talked about it more. He figured that that choice was the best and less painful route to go: talk things over, and maybe try at a friendship. But nothing more than that. But he knew that this new information would complicate things. 

If USSR knew as much as he implied, and he was willing to bet he did, then that means that none of his friends were safe. Especially Marilyn. Somehow, USSR was able to figure out about this essential part of his personal life. And he could easily use it against him. He could have agents kidnap her and give her a mysterious death, just for the sake of revenge for the comments Alfred had just made to him. He could have her tortured for information about him, things that USSR could use against him. The very thought of Ivan getting his hands on her gave Alfred intense feelings of rage and despair, and he didn't even understand why. This woman caused their relationship to fall apart on the most painful note possible. Why wouldn't Alfred want some sort of revenge against her? Why did he still  _care?_

But deep down, he understood that no matter how hurt his feelings might be, he couldn't just let Ivan capture her. Not only would that possibly mean the loss of her young life, it would give Ivan the satisfaction of  _winning._ Of successfully destroying something that, no matter what he said to himself to refute it, he cared about. And that's why he had to make a new decision. The decision that would be best for her. 

He had to cut their ties. 

It was the only way to keep her safe. Alfred knew that he'd probably regret it, and have to deal with the pain for decades to come. But he knew that that kind of pain would be much more preferable to the pain of watching her be murdered and dying so young. Now, he just needed to think of how to tell her of his choice. It would be better to just rip the bandaid off quickly, he thought. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be done with the whole business. But then again, that would mean calling her. That would mean hearing her voice, and having to confront her, which was something he desperately didn't want to do.

He was in the middle of debating whether or not to write a letter or call her, when the phone suddenly rang again, making Alfred jump. Alfred's breath caught in his throat, fear tricking all throughout him. What if it was Ivan? Back to make more threats? Or announce that he had already captured Marilyn and was making his demands? The worst possible scenarios were running through his head when he shakily picked up the phone. "H-Hello?"

"Alfred.." 

America subconsciously let out a breath of relief, his muscles relaxing immensely at the sound of Marilyn's voice. It was soft as usual, except now it sounded a bit.. Off. Suddenly, he realized that he would have to inform her of his decision, and that got his muscles tensed up once more. Brushing off the sound of her voice, which he couldn't pinpoint what was different, he attempted to greet her casually. "Marilyn, hey, what's up?" Her response was to mumble unintelligibly. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. She's been really busy lately with her new business. It was most likely the stress of the job taking its toll. He knew how that felt. 

"...S-So, after a lot of thinking, I think I've decided on my choice." Alfred said awkwardly, bracing himself to make as clean a cut as possible. She mumbled unintelligible gibberish again. Now, Alfred was wondering if something was up. She didn't seem... All that good. "..Marilyn.. Are... Are you alright?" He asked her, feeling concerned. When she responded, he understood a few words that she said. "...Fired.. Failed.. Sleepy.." Alfred started. "W-What? Marilyn, what's wrong?" Now, he was really concerned. She just began mumbling more, her voice becoming slightly more slurred. And then it hit him. She sounded exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in six months. And she sounded like she was dozing off. 

It was early in the afternoon. There was no good reason for her to be so tired. Her pills she took-

Alfred froze. 

Once more he felt the increasingly familiar sensation of ice water down his back, his heart dropping into his stomach. Panic began to flood him as he suddenly got an idea. "Marilyn. Listen to me. Did the Studio fire you? Is that what you're saying?" "...Mmm.." "A-And.. And did you take any of those pills that Dr. Greenson prescribed you aftetwards?" There was a long pause that nearly drove Alfred mad from fear, but eventually he got a response. This time, her voice had quieted to little more than a whisper, her drowsiness pulling her to sleep. But luckily, Alfred understood one of the words she had whispered. 

".....help.." 

Alfred immediately started to scream, his sentences almost unintelligible from his hysteria.  _"Marilyn! Don't fall asleep! Stay awake for me, please! I'm going to get help! Don't fall asleep! I'm calling for help right now!"_ Alfred hung up the phone before quickly picking it up again and dialing 911. "Come on come on come on!" Alfred cried, his hands trembling and his breath heavy. Finally, his call was answered. "911, what's your emergency?" Alfred immediately started rambling off. "M-My friend! She's had an overdose! You need to get there as fast as possible!" He quickly told the operator the address where Marilyn was staying and tried to answer all of the questions she had. When he eventually hung up the phone, he dashed for his bomber jacket that was laying on the couch. 

Wrapping himself in his jacket, he quickly grabbed his car keys and scrambled out of the house and out to his car. 

* * *

 

 

Alfred never liked hospitals. They were always too white or grey, and the air always smelled of medicine. But the waiting room was where he found himself, seated in an uncomfortable plastic chair and waiting miserably for what felt like hours. He'd rushed first to Marilyn's apartment to make sure she was still alive and watch over her in case the ambulance had not yet arrived. But when he'd eventually arrived at her apartment door, he found the door open and police and paramedics streaming in and out of the place. He turned helplessly to the nearest officer, asking where Marilyn was. He had responded that she had been taken to the hospital, and gave him the information to get there. After that, he rushed back to his car and sped towards the hospital. 

He felt like he was about to fall asleep in his chair when he felt a hand grab his shoulder, startling him awake. Expecting to see the doctor, he was surprised when he looked up into the gaunt face of Arthur Miller instead. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, his dark hair neatly combed and his eyes framed by thick black glasses. 

Alfred was stunned, unsure of what to say. So he said nothing. "Excuse me.. Would you happen to be.. Alfred?" Miller asked him quietly, a cautious look in his eyes. Slowly, Alfred nodded. Arthur relaxed a bit, and lowered himself into the seat next to him. "In that case, I need to thank you. You saved Marilyn." He said kindly, a hand still on his shoulder.  "Don't worry about it.." Alfred managed softly. "How did you hear my name?" In response, Miller smiled. "The paramedics mentioned that you called them when I was finally informed of what happened. I also heard her mention you previously. About how you were close friends." Alfred tried to look blank faced, to hide his hurt feelings that she didn't even mention what he was to her to Miller. 

"I... See." Alfred said, not knowing what else to say. He averted his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. Arthur also sat quietly. Eventually, the awkwardness got to be too much. "So.. Why didn't Marilyn call you when this happened?" Alfred inquired, to make conversation and also because he was genuinely curious. Miller clasped his hands neatly in front of him. "She did. But I was unable to answer her calls. I was busy working. I should've listened to her." The man looked genuinely regretful and pained. He looked down as if he were ashamed of himself. Alfred said nothing, feeling a bit sorry for him. 

But he had also been in deep thought himself. The fact that Marilyn had turned to him when she felt she had no other option dug into his mind and settled there. It was the realization that she still  _relied_ on him. That he was still on her mind, and felt she could still trust him and count on him as a friend, because he knew that she had very few true friends. He didn't know whether this information pleased him or unsettled him for the same reasons. And then there was the matter of his choice that he had made.

How was he going to break this to her? 

Alfred closed his eyes, feeling tiredness slowly coming over him again. He wasn't sure what time it was, but chances are it was rather late. Perhaps he could sleep some sense into his mind. He knew he would need it when the inevitable finally came.


	35. Marksmanship

 

January 16, 1955

 

It took many hours before Marilyn was reported to be in stable condition. By then, it was very late and visitors wouldn't be allowed until tomorrow. Feeling as though his hours of waiting went in vain, Alfred trudged home with a heavy heart. Now, his anxious feelings would be even more prolonged since he would have to wait. But he knew that next time, once he went into her room, there would be no going back. He spent a lot of his time that night in his bed, his mind thinking constantly about her and his stomach doing nervous flips from his anxiety. He ended up falling asleep quite late in the night, and as a result he got very little sleep. When he awoke early the next morning, he felt emotionally drained and weak. 

Still, he dragged himself from his warm bed and downstairs into the kitchen, his feet trudging against the smooth, cold floor of the kitchen and the coolness of it helping to wake him up a bit more. A few minutes later saw him sitting at the table, hair messy from sleep, nursing his second cup of coffee. The hot substance was quickly revitalizing him and the strong smell of coffee beans was a great comfort to him. Early light shone through the windows, setting the scene of a very calm, quiet, and casual morning. But he knew that it surely wouldn't end that way.

He forced himself to avoid the subject of Marilyn for as long as possible and just enjoy the peaceful morning. Visiting time wouldn't begin for a few hours now, so until then he could just sit back and relax...

Or so he thought. Despite his efforts, thoughts of Marilyn and the news he would have to break to her knawed at his mind still. He couldn't find any possible activity that would take those thoughts away, so he just began furiously cleaning everything in his very large house. He scrubbed the floors and the walls, cleaned the kitchen and the bathrooms, dusted off the many paintings and other very old family objects and mementos, and checked the many states' rooms at the house to make sure they were clean like they were supposed to be. By the time visiting hours were approaching, Alfred was helplessly looking for anything left to clean or something to do. Alas, he had cleaned almost everything except the places that were impossible to reach (although he'd gotten desperate enough to try to clean those places and nearly broke his arm in the process.) 

Alfred sighed and resigned himself to getting dressed to go visit Marilyn. He decided on a simple shirt and jeans. Which was basically what he wore most of the time. But he was never one to dress up fancily anyways. As he prepared to leave, an object caught his eye, and he turned to see a most familiar item. 

His brown leather bomber jacket was hanging on the coat rack. Alfred smiled wistfully and grabbed it from its hanger. The jacket was pretty old by many people's standards, but Alfred would always be pretty emotionally attached to it. It was with him during the World Wars. It's warmth and weight comforted him during very hard times. It was one of the things that had always been there. He mostly wore it with his war uniform, but now that there was no need for the uniform now and it was just his jacket, he figured he might as well keep it. He pulled it on as he left the house, letting it's familiar warm feeling calm his nerves like it had many times before. 

* * *

 

 

By the time Alfred was given permission to enter Marilyn's room, the calmness of the jacket had all but been forgotten. It was replaced by an icy fear and twinges of nerves when he was given permission. But still, he gathered up his courage and walked after the nurse, steeling his nerves for the approaching talk. When he entered, the nurse moved off to the side to let him in before leaving and closing the door behind her, leaving Alfred and Marilyn alone in the room. 

The room was silent as Alfred took in the surrounding area. From where Alfred was standing, to the far right wall, the bed was placed in the middle of it, surrounded on both sides with small nightstands with lamps on them. There was a large window with light blue curtains on the wall directly opposite Alfred. The wall opposite from the bed had another door, presumably leading to a bathroom. It was simple, and the simplicity was what made it easier for his attention to be drawn to the figure laying in the bed. She was in a white hospital gown, her curly hair a bit mussed and less tame than usual. She was paler, and she kept the blue blankets drawn almost up to her chest as she sat up a bit higher upon his arrival.

"Hey, Marilyn.." Alfred said quietly, a bit unsure. The girl stared at him for a moment before drawing her eyes away from him and staring intently at the blankets. She also found this meeting to be somewhat awkward. "Hello, Alfred." She eventually stammered, her voice nearly a whisper. "I... I apologize. For interrupting your day like that, and messing everything up." She shook her head to herself, her features twisted into an expression of deep personal pain that Alfred recognized after years of knowing pain. The fact that she was  _apologizing_ for having her life saved was almost too much for him to bear. He felt a wave of immense guilt and pity consume him at her words. 

"No," he choked, moving to sit in a chair by her bed. "Don't-Dont say that. You shouldn't apologize for being rescued." He wanted to say more to her, so much more. Thoughts of breaking up their friendship momentarily fled his mind as he attempted to console her. He wanted to apologize that she had been driven to attempt suicide, again. He wanted to ask her if perhaps he had played a part in it. If his dismissal of her the other day had contributed to the pain she'd been feeling. She may have messed up; made a mistake during their brief relationship. But that didn't warrant complete indifference on Alfred's part. There is no good excuse for not helping someone who was contemplating death. 

She took a breath. "I called you, because I tried to call Arthur before and he didn't answer. In that moment, I felt such an overwhelming feeling fill me. It was true fear. Fear that I was going to die this time. That I would never see any of my friends again. But..." She choked back a sob. Maintaining herself, she continued. "But I thought of you, too. I thought, 'What if he was going to open up to you again? Forgive you? And I died, and didn't get to at least make amends?' These questions motivated me, I believe. I called you out of desperation. I realized that I didn't want to leave this world without finishing what I started." She sniffed, still unable to meet his gaze. Her lower lip was slightly quivering. "A-And.. And you answered me. When nobody else answered, you still did. Even when you had every reason to ignore me."

The feeling of guilt seemingly exploded in Alfred's chest at her hopes that he would forgive her. Alfred had begun to feel the sting of tears behind his eyelids, but he forced them back with all his strength. "M-Marilyn..." He whispered. She wiped at her eyes with a tissue. "Why?" She asked him, her voice no higher than his. Alfred tried to answer, but any and all words died on his lips. He also truly  _had_ no answer. He could try to chalk up the reason as being so he could break off their friendship for good, but that answer didn't seem... Right to him. It felt as if something was missing. He could say nothing. Eventually, Marilyn got the hint that Alfred didn't know what to say. So instead, she asked him, "Have you thought about your decision?" This time Alfred  _did_ have an answer. But not the one that would please her. He gulped. It was time to rip off the bandaid.

"Actually.. Yes. I have.." He trailed off. "And.. I've made my choice." She suddenly looked up at him for the first time, cerulean eyes meeting cerulean eyes. They were filled with hope, fear, and a million other tiny emotions. But the biggest one was sadness. The emotion was so overwhelming in her eyes that it made Alfred faulter from his proclamation. But still, he knew he had to do this. He took a deep breath. "Marilyn, I think that-" "Wait!" She suddenly said. Alfred faltered once more in confusion. "At least let me explain first, o-okay? Just let me say some things, and then you can tell me your choice." She looked at him pleadingly, and eventually, Alfred gave in. He slumped his shoulders and nodded quietly. He almost immediately cursed himself for it. 

She fractionally relaxed. She looked away slightly again, took a small breath, and spoke. "After my divorce with Joe, I felt alone. Abandoned. Betrayed. I had a lot of friends to comfort me, like you and Milton Greene and his family. Miller was also a friend of mine; we met back in 1951. I always kind of got the feeling that Miller was interested in me. Apparently, his married life was troubled and he wasn't having a good relationship with his wife. I just didn't know how to handle it. Not long after we met, I did develop some feelings for him. He made me feel like I was the most interesting and smartest girl he'd ever met. Those feelings for him mostly faded as I met Joe and you and especially after Joe and I married. But after the divorce, he was showing a lot of comfort towards me in a time when I really needed it. I guess I didn't totally kill those feelings for him when I married Joe, because I realized I still had some feelings for him."

She looked up at him then, looking completely apologetic. "But of course, by then I was with you. I may have feeling for Arthur, but what I felt for you was equally as strong. I tried to gently put things off with him, as I still valued his friendship. But he kept insisting on meeting up more, at places like plays or restaurants, completely casual and friendly meetups, and telling me about how he plans to leave his wife for me." She sighed. "Please understand that I wasn't dating Arthur behind your back. I didn't cheat on you, and I never would. What you read in the letter was just an invitation to another one of our hangouts. I know... That the real problem is that I didn't tell you, and how that makes me look. And I'm sorry. I should've thought this through better, and told you about these things. You were my partner; you should've been involved more in my life and friends."

She cracked a small smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. "I just hope you can understand, and at least forgive me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. It's like you've always been there from the very beginning of my career and I couldn't imagine you just suddenly up and leaving." She said softly. Alfred's traitorous heart fluttered in his chest at her soft words. For a moment, neither of them spoke. She just sat there, looking at him expectantly. Alfred stared back, unsure of what to do or how to respond. He suddenly felt as if all his confidence had been transformed into unease. As if the plan he had worked out so delicately in his head had just gone horribly wrong. 

The silent staring between them brought back distant memories to Alfred, of when he was the one laying in a hospital bed and she was the one visiting him. Memories of what nearly happened the last time they had been silent and staring at eachother like this stubbornly kept at the back of his mind, knocking persistently. Alfred blushed slightly, looking away and breaking the eye contact. "I..." He muttered. She gave him a supportive look. "It's alright. You can tell me what you've decided. I promise I'll take it well, no matter what it is." She looked as if she were preparing herself for a slap in the face that she knew was coming. Slowly bringing his eyes up to hers, he stuttered, "M-my choice.. I-Is.." 

But of course, like all other things about him, his mind betrayed him.  _Dont say it. Don't say it._ His mind repeated the words like a mantra.  _You'll regret it. You want her. You need her. She didn't betray you. But you'll betray_ her. The thoughts pounded his mind. Quickly, Alfred felt himself resigning to the onslaught. He felt his barriers that he had tried so hard to build around his emotions after this whole incident started begin to shatter. More tears burned behind his eyelids. He knew that, try as he might, this was not a battle that he could win. For man stood no chance in the battle of the heart.  _You want her. You need her. She is_ everything  _to you. You lo-_

"I forgive you." He whispered. He saw Marilyn's eyes widen, her posture relax immensely, and a small smile begin to grow on her lips. She was the most beautiful girl on this pitiful Earth. No matter how often he heard her be called a woman, to him she would always be a girl. Like Norma Jean was. Because she was not Marilyn Monroe, the sexy icon and world famous star. Here, she was, and always will be, Norma Jean. And she quickly threw her arms around Alfred, pulling him into a tight hug. A hug that he reciprocated. 

He was able to defeat the most powerful empire in the world. And yet here he was, brought to his knees by the destructive force of love.

He hoped that the tears streaming down his cheeks wouldn't be noticed by her as she hugged him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one came a LITTLE bit later than usual. I had surgery on the 18th on my eye muscles, so I've spent a lot of the days afterwards trying to recover and heal from the pain. Of course, once the pain started to disappear, I began working on this chapter. I hope that the other chapters after this will be released on a much more timely schedule! Thanks for the patience!


	36. Closing Circus

 

March 31st, 1955

 

The constant murmur of a large crowd a few corridors and floors away from him kept Alfred anxious as he paced around in the large dressing room. He'd been here many times, but definitely not for this reason. Madison Square Garden was a fantastic place to visit, and a major tourist attraction when performances were held here. Today, however, he was not here to see just any performance. In fact, it wasn't much of a performance at all. Today, the stadium was hosting a charity event in the name of Arthritis research. The event would also be to celebrate the premiere of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bailey circus. Being a big lover of charities and volunteering, Marilyn had eagerly accepted the invitation to "perform" there. And by "perform," they meant to have her ride an elephant. A pink elephant. 

Alfred had been asked by Marilyn a few days ago if he'd wanted to join her and see the spectacle happen. It had been a while since they'd seen eachother, with Marilyn apparently deciding that they needed to start doing things again so they could try to get past the events of two months ago. They mutually agreed to avoid talking about the awkward incident until they felt comfortable about it. After all, Marilyn was now privately seeing Miller now, who was in the process of divorcing his wife for her. Until then, the relationship would be secret. Alfred had reluctantly accepted her offer after realizing he wouldn't be busy for the next few days or so after finishing his paperwork early. 

The door to the dressing room suddenly swung open, and in strode Marilyn, followed by a host of people. Marilyn was in a white robe, her hair and makeup having just been completed after what felt like two hours of working. The star was guided over to a black wall divider, disappearing behind it to change into her costume. Alfred sat down with a sigh on one of the plush white couches against a wall of the room, reaching over and taking a cookie from the snack table next to the couch. He could hear some of the female assistants helping Marilyn into the outfit, some grunting things like, "here, try to move a little-yes, that's good," or "try pulling it up a bit," while taking bites of the cookie. He rolled his eyes. Women. Eventually, the outfit was completed, and Marilyn stepped out from the privacy of the wall divider and into open view of Alfred and the other assistants, who were waiting to escort Marilyn to the stadium. 

Alfred felt his eyes widen, heat rising a bit to his cheeks. The mega star was in a white and black corset type of costume. The top of the corset was black, which slowly narrowed as it traveled farther down, giving the black part of the corset the shape of an upside down triangle, with the edges of the triangle at the top of the costume jutted out. The rest was white with jewels embedded into it, except for the two parallel black stripes at the bottom of the outfit. An explosion of pink feathers, a massive black and white bow, and white fabric were attached to the back of the costume, giving Marilyn a rather crazy looking style. But then again, she was supposed to be dressed for a circus. Fishnet stalkings squeezed tightly to the skin of her legs and thighs, making it look like it was part of the costume and not a separate item of clothing. On her feet were matching black heels. Long white gloves were covering her arms up to her elbows, with a thick silver bracelet attached to one wrist. Her neck was also decked with a thick silver necklace and her earrings the same.

Alfred blinked at her. Then again. And again. Marilyn looked at him, amusement rising on her face. "What? Do you like it?" She asked him teasingly, and Alfred flushed red. She laughed, but one of the employees suddenly entered the room and quickly approached her. "Ms. Monroe, it's time." The woman said curtly. There was a small moment of silence, the nervousness and tension filling the room. The mood tended to be that way when you were about to ride a pink elephant in Madison Square Garden in front of a massive crowd. Still, the group of people began making final adjustments to Marilyn's costume and going through lists, making sure everything was in place. Finally, the large group headed out of the room and made their way towards the stadium, weaving and turning in hallway after hallway. The large group of employees and assistants headed out in front of Marilyn and Alfred, who were nearly in the very back. The distant hum of loud cheering steadily grew louder and louder as they neared. Alfred turned to Marilyn awkwardly, murmuring, "You ready for this?" 

The star suddenly looked quite odd. She just stared ahead, as if her eyes were fixated on something in front of her. Perhaps she was trying to concentrate and control her nerves? "Yeah," she mumbled back, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm good. Maybe a bit nervous." Alfred tried to give her a smile. "Don't worry, you'll do great. The employees and I will be here if you need us at all." She nodded at his response, taking it to heart. She said nothing else. 

When they reached the stadium, Marilyn was urged to the front of the group amidst the roar of the crowd and the constant flash of cameras. The press were sure to have a field day with this unique gesture. Standing nearby and quite hard to miss, was a pink elephant. The head of the large animal was decorated with bright headgear. The assistants led Marilyn over to the elephant, and began to help her climb onto his large back. The crowd cheered louder and the flash of cameras increased in frequency. By the time she was placed on the creature's back and walked around the stadium amidst the crowd, Alfred had made his way back to the sidelines with the other assistants, watching the spectacle from afar. 

Really, it was nothing like he'd ever seen before! Who would've expected to see Marilyn Monroe, perhaps the biggest star in the world now, riding a pink elephant for a charity event? The idea was so amusing, Alfred found himself laughing at it. "O-Oh man, wait till Iggy and Mattie hear about this." He murmured to himself, chuckling. He felt much more relaxed than when he had just arrived. His mind then had been stuffed with doubts and fears of everything between them being awkward. What if we just can't connect like we used to? Or if everything has been totally damaged by this whole incident? He'd spent the months after the incident calmed down drowning in such thoughts and fears. But eventually, he calmed down more. Tried to focus on a plan. Something that could help improve things with his friend. That could lessen the tensions. Apparently, the 'tensions' Alfred had been feeling were nonexistent to Marilyn. She'd called him up and chatted with him as if nothing had happened a few months prior. To be fair, she did seem a bit cautious when asking him if he'd like to come to this event with her. She kept insisting that he didn't have to come if he didn't want to, and that she'd be fine with that.

Of course, Alfred ended up accepting the offer. It was a good way to really relax around eachother again. He could see good things on the horizon in the future. Her picture, The Seven Year Itch, was set to be released on June 1st, Marilyn's birthday. When he brought up this to her, she had given him a soft look and explained that she would be busy with a special birthday party that Miller was planning with Marilyn's closest colleagues. "I figured you wouldn't be too keen on meeting Miller or anything," Marilyn soothed. "I'm sorry, Al. But I still want to go see the picture with you. How about we try and see it together about two days after my birthday?" Alfred had reluctantly accepted the offer, a flash of hurt blooming in his chest at being left out of his friend's birthday party. But to be honest, it probably would've been more painful to see Marilyn and Arthur Miller together, anyways. At least he had his ice cream to keep him company. 

Marilyn continued to ride around on the elephant, smiling and waving and laughing the whole time. Alfred smiled up at her from afar. Maybe they could get through this. Maybe things could be saved after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one is significantly shorter because it just describes this one event (which I love and thought was cool and I wanted to add it in there.) Basically just a more fun, short chapter after all of the drama you've just been through lol. Don't worry, the best parts are yet to come. The next few years are expected to be pretty short, so we'll see how that goes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!  
> P.S. I will also be busy with school now. Will try to update whenever I feel the urge to! Mostly on the weekends probably. High school does that to you. :(


	37. Disputed

January 25, 1956 

 

All of the chaos in the room definitely made Alfred feel more at home. However, there was now a noticeably added tension to the already overwhelming sense of power in the room. Alfred tried to ignore the vicious glare Vietnam was sending him from farther down the table. It had started in November, when his people had decided to 'assist' in the intense violent conflict emerging on and around Vietnam. The war had almost immediately angered Americans, as it had Alfred, and sparked protests across the nation. Alfred was still dealing with headaches from all of the protests and divisions that were ravaging the country and politics. South Vietnam, China, Thailand, North Vietnam, plenty of countries were involved in this conflict. The last thing people needed was another competitor to add to the carnage.

Still, there wasn't much Alfred himself could do. He only had the power to advise his bosses. The president and other officials were the ones with power over the government. Luckily, Eisenhower didn't seem too fond of getting involved in that region either. Besides from the fact that he was basically interfering in other people's business (yes, he  _could_ read the atmosphere, and read it good), the timing was also a reason for much protest. It felt like barely a year had past since the nations of the earth were ravaged by world war. And while some countries had quickly picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and worked to clean up the rubble and build better things, many other nations that didn't have the economic stability that others had were still struggling to rebuild. It would take a lot of time to get past the memory of the war, both physically and mentally. How could he handle another war? He had practically  _just_ finished a gigantic one! Indeed, nightmares often plague him of scenes on the battlefield. A soldier being stabbed, children running with blood on their faces, innocent people's corpses being pulled from the rubble... 

He snapped out of his dark thoughts when Germany shouted for Italy to get off of him. "We do not have time for this! Sit  _down!_ " He shrieked. Italy cowered in fear, quickly diving into his seat. "Ve~ Sorry, Germany!" The Italian wept. Germany grunted in response. The room had quieted immediately at the German's voice. Germany looked around at the awkward silence, adjusted his suit and cleared his throat. "We have much to discuss other than petty disagreements between us. Now, who's next to speak?" He asked. India raised his hand, and Germany nodded in his direction and sat down. India gathered up his papers and made his way up to the podium to begin his speech, probably about more measures that can be taken to help struggling nations rebuild their economies. 

Vietnam's gaze had shifted from Alfred to the podium, but Alfred still felt the sensation of someone looking at his back. But this one was much more familiar. Alfred had to bite back a smirk. Ivan had been glaring at him at meetings ever since this dispute between them had started. He could tell the tension between them made other nations anxious. And he didn't blame them. Both of them were one second from destroying the world. Anxiety especially ran deep in both countries. Alfred had begun to glance around himself sometimes, when he was alone. He always felt as if he was being watched. And even though he knew that he was alone, he just instinctively felt the need to make sure, just in case. India's speech continued uninterrupted, a rarity among world meetings. Everyone was probably too frightened to dare say a word. It came as a major relief when break time came, and all the nations made a run for the doors to the meeting room. Alfred had planned for lunch with France, England, and Canada at a restaurant down the street. The meeting this year was in London, so England would be playing guide for the rest of them.

As it turned out, it was indeed possible for the weather to be nice in England. He mused to himself as he walked down the street, trailing the other three nations. The sun was shining brightly, one of the first few signs of the coming spring. It was still fairly chilly out, but the air was warmer than excepted. It most likely wouldn't be as nice as it was  today throughout the next few days. The streets were alive with the rumble of cars down the road and some shops had their doors open to take advantage of the nice day. The scent of tea was a particularly strong one wafting through the air as a result. They arrived at the restaurant, a spacious establishment located at the intersection of two busy streets. 

They all sat down at a table and picked out their orders. "Thank you again for inviting us to eat lunch with you, England." Canada smiled. "I could really use a nice, warm meal." England beamed at him. He opened his mouth to respond, when Alfred did the honors for him. "And one that's not burnt to a crisp," He quipped mischievously, a smug smile on his face. England's look of happiness turned into one of annoyance in less than a second. "Oh belt up, wanker!" He hissed, smacking Alfred on his shoulder hard enough to jolt him. America rubbed at his shoulder, chuckling to himself. "I wanted you all to try some classic English cuisine!" France cut in with a hand on England's shoulder, which England looked slightly repulsed at. "Yes, yes,  _mon ami._ We understand, and we're all glad to dine here. Alfred, would you  _please_ stop riling everyone up?"

Alfred sighed but nodded. Everyone then focused their attention on the waiter as he came over for their orders. While the others were ordering, America saw something out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly, he saw France looking at him discreetly as well. The Frenchman then gave him a knowing smile and a wink. Grinning, America winked back. Good to know you still had allies. 

They ate their meals in relative peace. Alfred thought that his food, a dish called Bedfordshire clanger, was simple but sweet. Definitely tasted like a classic English dish. England decided on Yorkshire pudding, while France and Canada ordered a Banoffee pie. Eventually, they all finished their meals and sat back in their seats, content. "I thought it tasted okay." Alfred shrugged. "But nothing can compare to my hamburgers." Everyone rolled their eyes in a scarily synchronized way. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing." England sighed. Canada gave him a supportive look. "Don't worry, England. I thought the food was great. I'd love to eat here again for the remaining days of the meeting. Sound good?" 

England gave Canada a fond look, reaching over to place his hand on top of his. "And that's why you were my favorite colony." "Hey!" America retorted indignantly. France chuckled. "Dear  _Amerique,_ do not fret! At least you still had your big brother here to help you in your little revolution,  _non?_ " Alfred sighed. "I guess." He muttered. Silence descended over them. Wanting to break it, Canada shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "So, Al, how are things going over at your place?" France and England were immediately interested in this new topic, looking at Alfred with their complete attention. Alfred frowned slightly. Why bother saying much? They knew perfectly well what was going on here. "...You're talking about me and Ivan, aren't you." 

The others exchanged glances. Alfred leaned back in his seat. "Look, you guys already know how things are going. The government and people are paranoid and there's not much we can do except accuse eachother of everything. So basically not much change from before this whole conflict." England gave Alfred a hard look. "This isn't a joking matter, Alfred. One wrong move and-" "Yeah, yeah, 'and me or him or both of us could destroy the whole world.'" He muttered. "Look, I know what I'm doing, okay? I know how this looks from the outside, and I'm trying to find a solution. I just... I just need  _time._ And it's not gonna be any easier with Vietnam giving me looks so fiery they could probably ignite the missiles alone." 

"Ivan seemed... Different today, though..." Canada interjected, his voice filled with quiet anxiety. "He seemed angrier, somehow. Did you say anything to piss him off?" America huffed. "Other than the usual things I say to push that communist bastard's buttons? No." "Perhaps... Something has happened? Something bad?" France queried, sipping on his red wine. America was silent, looking down.

More silence covered their table. Except now, there was a feeling of tension in the air. Finally, America spoke up quietly, softly, so that you could barely hear it. 

"For everybody's sake, I hope that you're wrong on that, France." 

* * *

 

February 9th, 1956

 

 "I'm going to be working on a new picture."

Alfred blinked at Marilyn's words. He sat on his couch, phone against his ear, and the TV turned on to Batman cartoons. Just ten seconds ago, his phone had started ringing, and Alfred had been unable to say 'Hello' before Marilyn's excited voice flooded through. 

"Oh, with your shiny new production company?" He asked her cheekily. He heard a snort from the other line. "Actually, yes. But that's the other thing I wanted to tell you: I'm going to negotiate an agreement with Fox." Alfred's eyes widened. "Oh, my God! That's great! What's going on with these pictures then?" "Well, the upcoming picture that I'll be working on will be for Fox. That one's gonna be called 'Bus Stop.' And then, next year, I hope to begin that new picture we're planning. It'll be my company's first independent production, can you believe it!?" She cried, her excitement overwhelming. Alfred smiled. "Sounds good. Let me know if you need a good director. I'd love to take on the job." He joked with faux smugness. Marilyn burst out laughing. "D-Definitely!" She giggled. "But I still have to make sure this whole case against Fox is completely cleared up before I begin all that casting stuff." 

Ever since she'd announced the creation of her company, Fox had been outraged and had immediately sued her fledgling company. It had been over a year of delicate maneuvering in order to win the court case in Marilyn's favor. Now, in order to seal over this conflict, she was apparently going to negotiate a new deal with Fox for more advantages in her hands than before. He asked her what she wanted out of this deal, and she went on to describe some of the aspects she was looking for: $100,000 salary for four pictures, and direct approval from her before she accepted the job. The fact that she had managed to fight against such a powerful system and  _won_ was spectacular in its own right. Alfred couldnt remember a time when that had happened before. The same thing went for women starting their own production company. The more he thought about her achievements, the prouder he felt of her.

She was very obviously trying to make a change in the movie roles she was playing. Sick and tired of the dumb blonde roles, she wanted to start playing more serious parts that would give her more acclaim and make critics take her more seriously as an actress. She was also changing her life offset. Her relationship with Miller was quite public now, and the two were very much close and happy together. Alfred did his best to be happy for her, despite the slight bitterness at the thought. Marilyn, for the most part, didn't really try to bring him up often around Alfred. She understood very well that Miller wasn't really someone to mention to Alfred so often, considering his feelings about the incident many months prior. Alfred was at least grateful for that. Aside from Miller, Marilyn was also moving to New York at last. He'd been trying to convince her to make the move for years now. That way she could be a lot closer to him since Alfred spent most of his time in the city when he wasn't at his capital or visiting his other homes across the states. 

She had mentioned that she was hoping to take acting classes while in New York, to prepare her for more serious roles. Alfred, the ever knowledgable man about popular places and events around the city, suggested joining the Actors Studio, run by Lee Strasburg. Marilyn seemed to take that idea to heart, and was hellbent on becoming a regular participant there.

"So where's this picture that your company's making gonna be made?"  

She hummed. "We haven't fully decided on a location quite yet, but Greene is really pushing for London." Alfred gasped. "R-Really?" He breathed. There was a bit of confused silence from the line. "...Is there something important about London..?" Alfred smiled. "Well, you'll be able to meet one of my brothers. You've met him before, at that birthday party cruise a while back. But it's been a long time and he would love to meet you again." "That sounds lovely." Marilyn said softly. Then she added, "How does the title, 'The Prince and the Showgirl' sound to you?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Why do you need my opinion? Still trying to cast me in your picture, huh?" He teased. Marilyn huffed. "Actually, yes. I've even got the perfect role for you."

Alfred's eyes widened. "Wait.. Really?" "Mmhm." "W-Well... What is it?" He asked excitedly. Marilyn paused for dramatic effect, which of course drove Alfred mad. "C'mon! C'mon! Tell me! You can't just tell a guy you've got their dream role and just leave me hangin'!" "Okay okay! Calm down! I'll tell ya," Marilyn cried. "Congratulations, Alfred. You've landed the role of... Showgirl!"

Alfred slumped in his seat. "Well, good luck with that. I don't think I'd be able to pull off a dress like you can." He murmured, just enough of an edge in his voice to let her know that he's joking. She bursts out laughing, and doesn't stop for what feels like minutes. Her laugh is contagious, and Alfred is soon also laughing until he's out of breath. It's a good relief for all of the pressure he'd been feeling as of late. By the time he hangs up the phone, it's been nearly an hour. 

But to him, it felt like merely ten or twenty minutes. Alfred is too carefree to really care at the moment. He just settles back down on the couch, lays down against the blankets and pillows and continues to watch the animated figures of the Joker and Batman fighting eachother. When he eventually falls asleep, it's the most peaceful and deepest sleep he's had in a long, long time.


	38. Speared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I had wisdom teeth surgery done the other day, and also have lots of school stuff to do, so basically I've spent lots of time on all that stuff. Will still update as soon as I can, though. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> P.S. Thanks for getting this story to 600 views! My ultimate goal for this story was to reach 1,000 hits, and so far we're well on our way to reaching that goal! :D

 

June 3, 1956

 

The sky was bright and blue, and the wind blew softly against the trees, making them sway silently. The sound of birds chattering was drowned out, however, by the busy noise of a large film crew gathered around a set. Alfred spotted the large crowd immediately after he parked on the side of the road and made his way over to them. As he got closer, he was consumed in the sounds and gossip of Hollywood, as if you were descending a staircase from a bright, light-filled room and into a dark, unknown cellar. Cameramen and extras roamed around the set, checking their cameras and practicing their parts. He had been invited by Marilyn to the set of Bus Stop, figuring he'd like to see how things were going and correctly assuming that he loved looking at sneak peeks of upcoming pictures. 

The scene now was a bar. And he could already see many people streaming in and out of the place that would be used for the set. He waited until he had a chance to squeeze into the building as well, before immediately heading towards the back of the set. Dressing rooms were normally set up in that direction. What he found wasn't a dressing room, but many stations set up with vanities and chairs in a back room of the building. Marilyn sat at her vanity, dressed in costume and being fussed over by a hairstylist and a makeup artist. 

Alfred smiled at her, moving to stand beside her. She noticed him, and gave him a small smile. Her makeup artist immediately chastised her for moving while she was working, and she quickly wiped the smile off her face. Alfred chuckled at the scene, then suddenly noticed something that made all thoughts wipe clear out of his mind, his laughter cutting off immediately with a gasp. Marilyn gave him a confused look with her eyes, then seemed to follow his gaze. Realization washed over her features just slightly, and she mumbled a few words to the ladies working on her hair and makeup. 

The two women, looking slightly annoyed, sighed and set down their eyeshadow and hairspray. They walked off somewhere, probably to a snack room or staff lounge to wait for Marilyn to call them back over. Meanwhile, Alfred still stood frozen in place, his eyes wide and mouth opened in shock. Marilyn stood from her seat with a warm smile, amusement flickering in her eyes. She giggled. "I see you've noticed it too, huh?" She teased.

She was dressed in her green costume for a song number; the outfit was completed with a pair of glimmering golden heels. Her hair and makeup were nearly completed, and he could already tell that she would look even better in front of the camera. However, none of that could compare to that one tiny detail. Right there on her hand, shining in the lights, was a small ring, settled proudly on her ring finger. It was simple, but beautiful at the same time. A style that complemented Marilyn best. Alfred still hadn't spoken to her, his surprise seeming to take everything out of him and crushing it up into tiny pieces and shoving it all back in. 

"Al? You alright there?" She asked lightly, a smile still plastered on her face. Alfred could see the happiness in her eyes. The excitement. The hope. It was all brewing in her mind, conjuring up ideas and plans for her future. In her eyes, he could see her playing with two young children, laughing and scrambling around with them. He could see her walking hand in hand with Miller, her loving gaze fixed on him as if she had never seen anyone so amazing. He saw, most tragically, because it was the biggest thing he couldn't provide for her, her and Miller sitting together on a front porch of a building, very much old but still just as in love. They were surrounded by many young adults and children were climbing all over their laps. 

He forced himself to look away from her shining eyes, the hopes in them becoming too painful for him to bear. He cleared his throat finally, shuffling his feet awkwardly in place. "A-Ah... Marilyn.. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He whispered to her. She hugged him tightly, pulling away after a few moments but keeping a hand on his arm. "I wanted to! But Miller preferred to keep things quiet for a little while so we could tell our family members separately and start getting wedding plans put together before the whole world had to know." She explained. "But you're a very close friend of mine, and you deserve to know too. Just don't go around telling everybody for now. I won't wear the ring on set. I just wanted to wear it so you could see it." Alfred nodded mutely, many emotions rolling around inside of him like a tide. "Well, congratulations! I'm sure you two are gonna have a lot of fun together." He said, as warmly as possibly. Marilyn beamed up at him gratefully, hugging him tightly again. "Thank you," she breathed. "That means so much comin' from you!" 

He returned her hug. He could've held her forever, but eventually he would have to let her go, and he did so with painful reluctance. "So... What wedding plans have you come up with so far?" He asked slowly. She contemplated to herself, humming in thought. "Hm, well there's going to be two ceremonies actually. We need to have a Jewish ceremony and a civil ceremony. I had to convert to Judaism in order to be able to marry Arthur." She murmured. "It's gonna be a lot of figure out. But I already got the basics down. I'm thinking about a private ceremony. Not that many guests, just close family. Of course, you're invited as well, if you decide you'd like to attend." She smiled up at him. He gave her a strained smile. "Of course I'll attend! It's your wedding. It'd be crazy for me to skip it." She nodded happily. "Great! I'll send you an invitation when we start planning everything. There won't be that long of a wait. If it's just a small, simple ceremony then the wedding will probably be happening pretty soon." He hummed in understanding. "Alright. Let me know if you need any location options. I know a lot of good places around here." Marilyn giggled again. "Of course! How could my wedding be complete without my best wedding planner?" She teased him, and he laughed despite himself. 

Quiet descended over them. "Attention! Filming begins in 20 minutes!" A cameraman called for everyone to hear. Marilyn gasped. "Oh god! My hair and makeup isn't even completed!" She cried in terror. Alfred watched her with great amusement as she snapped her head in his direction and started urging him in the direction from which he came. "You can go over and stand by those extras over there by the cameraman. There's a great view of the set from that place. I've gotta get my makeup done!" She cried. She gently shoved him off once more before turning and rushing over to her seat, practically jumping into it. "Margaret! Julie! You can come finish your work now!" Marilyn called in the direction that the women had disappeared. They reappeared a few moments later, looking about a panicked as Marilyn was. They immediately snatched up their various products and got to work.

Alfred watched the scene unfold in front of him. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and heading over to the place she recommended he stand. The set was crowded with extras and set designers, performing last minute light tests and making sure everything was cleaned and where it should be. The various tables and chairs were all set up, as well as the area where Marilyn's character was meant to sing, which was on another table towards the center of the room. Eventually the set cleared off, and the actors and extras began getting into their places and reviewing their lines one last time. The extras all sat in the chairs around the bar, and the main characters were all gathered together at one of the closer tables. Marilyn walked on set, heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor. She glanced over at him and gave him a small wave before turning back to her acting coach, who always assisted Marilyn on set with her lines to help her practice. 

"Filming begins in two minutes! Take your places!" The same man called out loudly. Immediately the aides and assistants cleared the set and the actors and actresses took their respective positions. Soon, the camera was brought into position and the lights flickered on, seemingly bringing life to the otherwise dimly lit set. "Filming in 3...2...1! Action!" The cameraman called, and immediately their scripts came to life. Alfred always enjoyed visiting filming sets and watching the emotions on the actors' faces. How they could control and change their features to show the perfect emotions and emphasize their best features at the same time as they recited their lines. To Alfred, it was like watching a magic trick. He had tried to explain it to his friends many times before, the real beauty of acting, but not many people seemed to really understand. Marilyn herself played her emotions perfectly, widening her eyes to create her so iconic look of innocence, but smiling in a way that made her seem anything but innocent. This incredible balance is what drew so many people to her. Including him. 

He eventually left the set after the day's filming was complete. He bid Marilyn goodbye and explained he had lunch to go to with Canada, who was taking one of his occasional trips south of his border. He quickly jumped into his car outside and sped down the highway towards the Chinese restaurant he liked to eat at with Canada. He pulled into the parking lot of the establishment and rushed inside, about ten minutes after the time he had set to meet Matthew at. He went over to the receptionist's desk in the corner of the entryway. The inside of the building looked festive and traditional for a Chinese food joint. It had Chinese-style pillars as the doorways and Chinese symbols and writings along the walls. The ceilings were painted to depict scenes of historical Chinese history. There was even a large aquarium in another corner of the room with multicolored fish swimming around lazily. 

"Hi, miss. Has anyone named Matthew Williams shown up yet? I'm the other person in the party." The young woman, who was wearing a nice Asiatic dress and whose long black hair was styled on top of her head and flowers sticking out at various points of the hair style and keeping the style together, smiled kindly at him and nodded. "Yes, sir. Just follow me." She said sweetly as she began to lead him into one of the dining rooms and past several booths of people. After taking a few turns and passing by numerous dining sections, he arrived at the dimly lit back section of the restaurant, where only a couple people were dining. One was an old couple who were dressed nicely (the lady was even wearing her shining white pearls!), another booth had a younger man in a suit, briefcase seating next to him on the booth. He was probably on his lunch break, Alfred wondered. 

Lastly, seated in a booth in a back corner, sat Matthew, head resting in his hand and sitting there quietly. He perked up when he saw the receptionist and Alfred making their way towards him. "Hey, Mattie! Sorry I'm late! I was visiting a movie set." Alfred explained, throwing his arms around his brother tightly. "I-It's alright, Al. I'm pretty used to you being late to everything." Canada joked, and Alfred pouted, moving away from Matthew and taking his seat across from him. "What would you like to eat today, sir?" The lady asked, pulling out a notepad and pen. "I can pass on the order to one of the chefs." Alfred nodded in agreement and quickly thought through the food options before settling on a favorite meal of his here. The woman wrote down his order and walked off with a polite nod of acknowledgment. Once they were alone, Alfred turned to Canada and spoke up. "VIP section? Really?" Alfred asked suspiciously.

"I like the service here!" Mattie snapped defensively. "And anyway, I figured the quiet space would be better." Alfred sighed. "Alright, alright. I'm guessing there's also some sort of private question you wanna ask me?" After a moment, Canada nodded slowly, looking a bit unsure. "Well.. Yes, eh. But when you sat down, I noticed that you looked really sad. What's wrong?" Alfred drummed his fingers on the table, looking down. "It's.. Just.. I'm just dealing with some upsetting stuff right now." He muttered. 

Canada reached over to place his hand on his brother's arm. "It's alright, eh. You can tell me anything, I promise! What's got you so upset?" Alfred smiled bitterly. "More like _who._ " Canada stared at him. "Marilyn? Is this about Marilyn?" Alfred didn't say anything. That answer was pretty obvious. He could tell Mattie thought so too. "Oh, Al." Mattie breathed. "What happened now?" The American frowned in response to the question. "...She's getting married to Arthur Miller." Canada's eyes widened in shock. "S-Seriously?" He gasped. Alfred nodded. "What am I supposed to do, Mattie? Why can't the world just let me have her?" He whispered, mostly to himself, but Matthew heard it. Without a second thought, he leaned over again and hugged Alfred from across the table. He seemed a bit stunned by this action, but returned it nonetheless. Alfred managed to pull away from him after a couple minutes of his brother's embrace. 

"I'm so sorry, Al! That's gotta be so awful," Mattie soothed. "I'm sorry this happened to you. Especially since it's happened two times now!" "It's alright, Mattie, I swear." Alfred interrupted. "I guess we just aren't meant to be together.. It's no big deal, alright? Let's just drop it for now." Matthew was going to respond when a waiter arrived at their table, setting down the two hot plates of fresh Chinese food. "Here you go, gentleman! Let me know if you need anything. My name is Paolo, so just ask for me." The man smiled. The twins nodded at the waiter and thanked him. Turning back to their meals, the mood of conversation seemed to have vanished. Instead, they just ate in awkward silence for a lot of the meal.

By the time Alfred got home and laid down on his bed, he still had no words to describe how he was feeling except numb. And his only other thoughts were about how his large bed and house was certainly big enough for two. 


	39. Wishing Wedding Well

July 1st, 1956

 

There were only a few times where Alfred F. Jones cried. That list included funerals, losses during times of war, saying goodbye to his bosses, and weddings.

Weddings especially managed to draw tears into his eyes. There was something so incredible and beautiful about watching two people who were in love make permanent vows of commitment to eachother and only eachother. The bride and groom would always look at eachother as if they were the only person in the room. Everybody else just seemed to fade out of existence. That was exactly what it was like for Marilyn and Arthur Miller on the day they were married. Watching the ceremony, Alfred truly did feel happiness for Marilyn, despite all that had happened. In fact, it was practically impossible to feel any sort of bad feelings on a day like this. The sun was bright and shining, the air was warm and light, and calmness resonated throughout the area. 

A quick civil ceremony had been held a few days prior, lasting all but four minutes and only having about two witnesses to see it conducted. Now it was time for the traditional Jewish rite wedding ceremony, and Marilyn and Arthur had planned for a small ceremony just like Marilyn had promised. The wedding was held at the home of Miller's agent, Kay Brown. Marilyn was given away by her trusty acting coach, Lee Strasberg, who Alfred had first mentioned Marilyn to. In total, there were about twenty five guests and the ceremony was conducted by Rabbi Robert Goldberg.

The couple bestowed rings to eachother, both inscribed with the words "Now is Forever," they performed the Jewish rites, and it was over. The wedding party quickly gathered to enjoy the food prepared for the occasion, give gifts to the newlyweds, and get their slices of cake. A very happy and homely mood was created as people chattered amongst eachother and Alfred stood with the happy couple and a few other guests. Miller stood in a finely tailored suit, an arm wrapped around Marilyn's waist and keeping her pressed against his side. Marilyn didn't mind the proximity in the slightest, and glanced up at him every so often with pure adoration in her eyes. 

The bride herself was dressed in a light beige muslin gown with a peasant neckline and satin belt. He even recalled Marilyn mentioning to him before the wedding that she couldn't find a veil to match the dress, so she'd dyed it in coffee. After laughing for twenty minutes straight, Alfred responded by teasing her and saying it was the most innovative move since the invention of the chair.

After the initial congratulations were given after the ceremony, all of the guests sat around a large table just outside of the house. On top of the long white tablecloth sat multiple assortments of plates, silverware, wine glassss, and flower arrangements. The food was sampled by all the guests, and conversations broke out amongst the dinner. Marilyn had a big smile plastered over her face the entire time, laughing and constantly trying to fix and straighten out her veil from the offending breeze. Miller kept a casual hand on Marilyn's back, and many times during the dinner the two would share a brief kiss. 

"So," one of the guests, an older woman, spoke up, wine glass in hand. "When can we expect to see some children running around?" She asked with a mischevious smile on her face and happy eyes. She sat on the opposite side of the table from the newlyweds and down a few seats to the left, so everyone turned in their seats to hear her remark. Miller laughed, his arm subconsciously squeezing his new bride. It wasn't any move of significance, nor was it even probably noticeable. But Alfred still found himself examining the couple's every moment like a detective on a case. Marilyn's eyes lit up at the woman's question. Her smile seemed to get even larger somehow.  _I don't think I've ever seen her look that happy around me,_ Alfred thought miserably. 

Mrs. Miller grinned. "Well, I'm not sure! Soon, I hope, but perhaps we'll decide to wait until things have settled down a bit. Wouldn't want to rush into things." She elaborated, squeezing her husband's hand and giving him another adoring look. The guests all murmured in agreement of the response. "Darling, don't worry about all of that! You're young, your beautiful, and you've got a long life together ahead of you!" A middle aged man spoke up, leaning over slightly in their direction. His greying hair was combed neatly back and he was dressed in a fine black suit and tie. His smile was full of nothing but kindness, and Alfred could practically feel the sincerity of the words. He could tell the couple did too. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Turner! You're too kind!" Marilyn beamed. Miller grinned and gave Mr. Turner a mock offended look. "You already trying to steal my wife from me?" He retorted loudly, causing laughter to erupt from the other guests. Marilyn jokingly swatted her husband on the shoulder, making Alfred smile bigger. She would always do that to him, too. 

The dinner went on, and Alfred didn't really add on much to the conversation. He already felt like it was unconventional for him to attend the wedding of a friend and her husband after having an affair with his friend just before she started a relationship with her now-husband. Best to at least keep a lower profile. But he stayed on to support his friend on her special day. And he was one of the few guests remaining three or so hours later when Marilyn pulled him aside and into a room when the party moved indoors. 

"Mary..?" Alfred asked, confused, as Marilyn shut the door behind them. She sighed, relaxing her posture. "I'm sorry, Al, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute." She murmured. "W-What is it? Is something wrong?" Alfred asked, feeling uncertainty rise in his chest. She moved closer to him, and Alfred could only register that she looked absolutely gorgeous in her wedding dress. Much different from her outfit for her wedding with Joe DiMaggio. She looked like a true bride now; he only wished she could have been  _his_ bride. 

"No, no, of course not." Marilyn said softly. "Nothing is wrong. In fact, I feel as if everything is perfect." She nodded. "I'm married, I have a thriving career, I feel like I'm moving on from the past, and I have amazing friends to help me do it." She smiled up at him. "Then... why do you need to talk to me?" He said, voice uncharacteristically tiny. She looked away. "I.. I guess I just wanted to make sure everything was alright with you." She admitted. "You seemed a bit quiet at the ceremony and dinner. I know this can't be very easy, considering.." She trailed off awkwardly. He nodddd for her to go on. She took a breath and continued. "But you still mean a lot to me. You've been a part of my life for.. what, ten years now?" She chuckled humorously. "Man, it feels like just yesterday." She whispered. It felt like only a second for Alfred. "Anyway, you're alright with this, right?" She asked him slowly. 

Alfred nodded rapidly. "Oh, yes! Yes, of course, Mary! I'm fine with it. This is about your happiness, and I fully support anything that would make you happy. You know that." He chastised gently. Marilyn smiled, moving even closer to hug him tightly, her head resting against his shoulder. He hugged her to him in response, savoring the feel of Marilyn being held against him so tightly and his head nearly being in her bright blonde hair. Even at her age of 30 now, still so young, she still seemed so tiny to Alfred. His arm could wrap almost entirely around her slim waist, and her Hollywood famous figure has never looked better if the pictures and photos had anything to say of it. All in all, she was absolutely perfect in his eyes. 

Marilyn seemed to take comfort in his tight embrace, adjusting her arms around him to a more stable position. "Oh, thank you.." She whispered. "You're my best friend, Al. I don't know what I'd ever do without you," she gushed. Unsure of how to respond exactly, Alfred suggested going and getting one last drink in the kitchen before he had to leave for home. She seemed to think it was a good idea, and led him out of the room and down the hall, passing by the living room where the remaining guests were chatting with Miller about the latest politics and his career.

In no time, they found themselves sitting around the counter, sipping wine and contemplating what was to come. 

"I doubt we will have much time for a honeymoon," Marilyn mused, "We will need to fly out to England shortly to film my next picture, The Prince and The Showgirl." Alfred nodded in response. "I could fly out there as well, if you'd like. I know the country well since I've been there a lot for work and stuff. I could help you all get settled. Plus I'm scheduled to go there anyways for a meeting with other work partners." Alfred explained. Marilyn smiled warmly. "We would love for you to come with us! Although, I'm not sure about traveling together..." she stated awkwardly. "Don't worry. I'll have my own means of getting there." 

"Alright, then." Marilyn smiled. She rested her head on her hand. "You tired?" He asked her, amused. "Kinda.. it's been a long day." Alfred brought his glass to his lips and threw it back, swallowing the rest of his drink and setting the cup back down on the counter. "Well, don't let me stop you from getting some sleep. Everybody else seems to be preparing to leave too. I'd better leave with em'." 

She gave him a sad smile. "Yes, I guess you should." She agreed simply. She went with him to the door of the house, where the other guests were preparing to leave as well. The newlyweds came to stand next to each other, and jointly wished everybody a good night. Alfred pulled on his coat and began to make his way towards the door. As he was leaving, Marilyn came over and gave him a quick hug and thanked him for coming. Alfred could see Miller looking at him from over Marilyn's shoulder. He didn't seem to hold any particular opinion on Alfred, just regarded him curiously, maybe even reflectively, and looked away. 

By the time Alfred got home, it was dark, cold, and felt emptier than it ever had before.


	40. Turbulence

 

July 14, 1956

 

The roar of the plane engine finally quieted after landing a few minutes prior, making the press surrounding the door of the plane get antsy. When the door finally opened and Marilyn and Arthur Miller made their way down the plane steps, the cheers of fans and yells of the press and the flash of their cameras wildly going off slightly blocked Alfred's view of the couple. 

Beside him, England stood quiet and calm, arms crossed behind his back in true gentleman fashion. Alfred looked over at his former caretaker, smile growing on his face. "Ain't she something!" He beamed. England gave Alfred a strange look, a bit unused to Alfred having feelings for a girl before. It wasn't very often that that happened before, but he certainly had never been  _this_ enthusiastic about a girl before either. He figured he would have to get used to seeing Alfred acting this way. The boy had always been a hopeless romantic at heart, anyways. When he loved someone, absolutely nothing could alter his affections. 

He understood Alfred's enthusiasm though. The mega star was certainly beautiful, perhaps one of the most beautiful women in the world, like Alfred's ridiculous newspapers liked to claim all the time. But there was definitely some element of truth to the claim. Her eyes shone with light, her hair the perfect blend of classy and sexy, and her outfits just the same. 

"Yes, I suppose so," England sniffed. "She is a beautiful woman." Satisfied with the answer, Alfred turned back to the slowly approaching couple. Behind Alfred and Arthur were a row of cars, the little red car at the front being the one the two countries would share. Arthur, per Alfred's request, prepared a few suites in a nearby hotel for the upcoming visitors. He would be leading the new American team (Marilyn, Miller, Milton Greene and his wife and son, and a few more assistants and extras for the movie) to the hotel to settle down. Also nearby would be famous actor Lawrence Olivier, co-star to Marilyn in the new picture. 

Marilyn spotted Alfred and smiled brightly, making her way over to him after she signed a few autographs and posed for some pictures. She was wearing a light but tight-fitting dress with a trench coat resting over her shoulders. Sunglasses over her eyes, a purse resting on one arm, and both hands cradling a bouquet of flowers, she looked every bit like the celebrity that she was. She opened her arms for a hug as she approached Alfred. Alfred smiled back and hugged her quickly, welcoming her when they pulled away.

"Thank you, dear! And thank you, Mr. Kirkland for your help." She added, turning to England. The island nation suddenly became bashful under her famous gaze. Flushing, he held out a hand to shake with her. "You're very welcome, Mrs. Miller. I do hope you enjoy your stay here in London." He said graciously, a smile on his face. Marilyn laughed, "Oh! Such a gentlemen! I hope all Englishmen are like this!" England smirked proudly. "I'm sure you'll be very pleased then!" He boasted. Alfred snickered. "Careful there, Artie. She's married, remember?" England's face reddened even further, and he swatted Alfred's arm harshly. "Shut it, git." He hissed.

Marilyn laughed again, but before she could comment further, her new husband and Milton Greene walked up to her, having finally escaped the onslaught of photographers and reporters themselves. "Ah, Mr. Kirkland?" Greene asked, shaking England's hand eagerly. "Yes, that would be me. I presume your flight here was enjoyable?" He queried. "Oh yes, very! Thank you again for accommodating us. And on such short notice! I was too busy dealing with official business and the press that I wasn't able to put so much effort into finding housing for us as I should have." He confessed. "You're very welcome, Mr. Greene. Really, it wasn't that much trouble. I have plenty of experience working with other official visiters, and was happy to help your group as well."

England then turned to Miller, who had been silent until then. "And you, sir! I've read some of your work, and I am very pleased with what I saw. Welcome to England." Miller smiled at England, shaking his hand as well. "Thank you, Mr. Kirkland. I hope we can all see more of you sometime? Perhaps even on set? Anything to show our gratitude." England seemed to slightly hesitate, considering the offer. "Ah, well, I'm not sure." He stuttered. "If it's alright with everyone else, and if I'm not busy, I'd be happy to come by for a visit sometime." "You're  _always_ welcome on set, Mr. Kirkland." Marilyn smiled, her voice calmer than when she'd last spoken. Miller had wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned into his embrace. England nodded at her response. Alfred looked around them. "Well, it looks like the press is getting crazier. We should probably take this over to the hotel, hm?" He said. 

Within fifteen minutes, everybody was in their designated cars and following Arthur and Alfred, who were in the front of the line of cars, to the hotel. "So tell me, Alfred. What is your relationship with this woman? I know you two have somewhat of a history, but you haven't let the rest of us in on any details. What is going on in that head of yours?" Alfred looked away. "I don't.. it's just.. I don't exactly know." He said slowly. England glanced over at him with an unamused look on his face. Alfred glared back. "Oh don't look at me like that! You've had your relationships with humans too." England's face tinged with regret. Alfred felt a bit of regret bite at him too the moment the words were said. There was silence for a little while, and the two estranged countries merely listened to the humming motor of the car as it sped down the streets and turned onto new lanes and roads. The sky was a light cloudy blue, and the sounds of the city brought life to the area. All around Alfred were old buildings, some probably from before he was even a country. The devastation of the Blitz over ten years before was mostly cleaned and repaired and rebuilt by now, but you could tell that the memories of it still haunted the expansive city. 

"...Look, I just don't know, okay?" Alfred finally spoke again. "I mean, we kind of had a thing going on after she divorced Joe, but it just kinda... fell apart." He sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. "Now, I'm not sure what we are anymore. She says we're still friends, and I guess that's what we try to act like. But I feel like there's just been something blocking us from being as close as we used to be." He explained quietly. England seemed to take pity on him. "Some relationships just don't work out well. Trust me, I've had plenty of them throughout my life. They're very hard, and complicated, and sometimes you feel like it's never going to work out. But believe me, when you  _do_ finally get it right, it can be one of the most amazing experiences you'll have as a nation. Love is a very curious thing, I take it." 

Alfred hummed in agreement. Then, "Maybe.. maybe she's right." "Pardon?" "Maybe we're  _just_ friends. Maybe that's all we were meant to be this whole time. What was I thinking, that a relationship between a human and a nation could actually work out?" He whispered. His eyes suddenly felt the sting of tears that he refused to let fall. England went silent for two main reasons: he didn't know how to respond to that or console the obviously distressed nation, and he realized with intense clarity that he had never seen Alfred upset this way. He had seen him upset at the crimes of war, but never had he sounded so insecure, so scared at something so personal before. Finally, realizing what he needed to say, he spoke. 

"Listen, I know how you feel. I know it's hard. And I don't exactly.... accept, of your feelings towards her, mostly because of my own experiences and knowledge on how human and nation relationships work. However, the fact that humans are mortal doesn't mean that you can't find happiness with one. Even if this relationship ends up not working out in the end or it does work out but you lose her to _time_ , that tiny pest, you will always have the honor of having known her, and having her influence to shape your life and to change it. And that's the most important thing you could get out of any relationship. No relationship is meaningless. And just because you two had a falling out, doesn't mean she's not the one. Anything is possible. When I married my Elizabeth, I was the happiest person in the world. I want you to be happy too, to learn and understand that happiness the way I did. Even if you end up losing her the way I did, you'll at least always have that feeling with you to keep you going."

Alfred looked back at England finally. "Elizabeth... why did she not want to remain married to you? Why didn't she want what so many other people would kill for? Immortality?" England took a breath. "I.. don't exactly know to be honest. She told me that.. she didn't want to live forever. That she feared all that she would have to go through if she became immortal. I guess that's understandable enough, but she always just seemed so distant from me afterwards. We loved each other with all of our hearts, but I suppose," England's eyes held a hint of age and sadness in them. "That we just weren't meant to be." 

"...I'm sorry." Alfred said. England tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "No, it's alright, lad." He said firmly. Alfred seemed to contemplate something. "So you're saying... that there's always the chance that she could still end up being the one I belong to? Or that we could even get married one day?" "Well, I did say anything was possible." Alfred thought of the idea. Images flashed behind his eyes, so bright that it was nearly blinding. Just barely through the light, he could see a wide view of an expansive church, with the countless rows of pews filled up. Flowers adorned the walls, the aisle, and surrounded the stain glass windows all along the walls. And in front of him stood the woman with blonde hair, her cerulean eyes shining with a bright light, her smile almost as blinding as the overall light of the room from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Her white dress was long and covered with sparkling jewels. 

He saw another image. The same woman pressed against him, his back pressed against a wall of a dimly lit room, her red lips kissing him fiercely and his hands roaming. In a flash of light, he had her lifted in his arms, and practically tossed her down onto the white satin bedsheets. The rose petals mixed distinctly with her blonde curls, and she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as he kissed her neck, slowly moving down to her collarbone, which her dress naturally left exposed, and even further down. He had only reached just above her cleavage, trembling hands fumbling with the dress' zipper, when hands shakily gripped the sides of his face, softly making him look up into her eyes. They were so filled with love that it was hard to look directly at her. 

_"I love you..."_

He saw many more images flash in his eyes. He and the woman having a picnic, the two of them walking with two little children, them dining at a fancy restaurant. He saw what felt like years of memories fly by. And the only thing he felt with all of them was want. He wanted that. 

"Alfred? Are you alright?" England's voice cut through his thoughts, shattering the images until he was left back in reality. Alfred swallowed. "Yeah, I believe so.." he said, also trying to reassure himself of that fact.

* * *

 

August 24, 1956

 

Everything seemed to start off great for the cast and crew of The Prince and the Showgirl. A press conference had been held on July 16th to announce the start of work on the picture, and around mid-July they started filming. Alfred went to set everyday with the others, helping the actors rehearse their lines and preparing the set to shoot a scene. And on many nights, Milton and his wife, Miller, Marilyn, and Alfred and sometimes Arthur, would all go out to dinner later that night after filming for the day was complete. 

"So Marilyn, how would you like to meet the Queen of England?" Milton Greene asked his friend as they dined on spaghetti and various wines. Marilyn looked up at him with an expression of surprise. "Wait.. really?" She asked slowly. Greene chuckled and nodded. "Yes! There's a whole celebration and they're inviting a lot of celebrities over to meet the Queen. You're obviously big news in the press, and they want to know if you will attend." Marilyn grinned at this. "Of course I will!" She squeaked, daydreaming about meeting royalty. After discussing more about the details of the affair, the group returned to their dining. Eventually, Miller spoke up. "Ah, as much as I hate to ruin the mood, I figured I should just inform you all of my flight back to the states on the 30th." He stated. 

"You're not staying for longer?" Mrs. Greene asked, cutting her spaghetti. Miller shook his head. "I have my own jobs to take care of. I won't be gone forever, though. I'll fly back over as soon as I can. Hopefully I can finish up my work and be back in about two to three weeks." Marilyn stayed strangely silent throughout the conversation, Alfred noticed. She seemed to catch him looking at her, and blinked back in his direction. Alfred sent her a questioning look, as if to ask her if everything was okay. She looked away from him. 

By the time they all got back to the hotel, it was nearing midnight. Alfred made to speak to Marilyn, but found that she had quickly retreated to her and Miller's room. Worried and confused, he was forced to push the thoughts to the back of his mind. There was, after all, still paperwork to be done for his boss sitting in his hotel room. 


	41. Generous Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longish Thanksgiving special! :D  
> Let me know what you think about the chapter and I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving with your family!

August 31, 1956

 

The day's filming was finally completed when the sun still had plenty of time left in the sky before it began to set. Wanting to take advantage of the nice day and the London markets, Marilyn quickly changed out of her tight costume and back into a comfortable-looking light blue pencil skirt, a black turtleneck top tucked into it and sleeveless, and a stylish belt to match.

Greene and his team were busy working with the director and assistants, so she quickly sought out Alfred from where he was standing by the snack table, trying to decide between chocolate chip cookies and brownies and trying to ignore the glares being sent his way by pissed off employees who were tired of all of their snacks disappearing. "Al," she said, tugging him away from the table. Alfred relented to her tugs mournfully, letting her pull him to the side. "Milton is busy. Arthur's gone back to the states. I really don't want to have to go with a bodyguard or a guide. And you seem to know the streets well. Could you take me around to some shops around here?" She begged. Alfred blinked. "Take you.. shopping?" 

She nodded. "Please? I don't know these streets as well as you." Alfred bit his lip. He had a choice to make. Cookies and brownies, or take Marilyn shopping? Cookies or brownies.. Take Marilyn shopping.. 

Alfred cried out in defeat. "Fine!" He groaned. The things he did for love. Marilyn beamed and grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the set and over towards where Alfred's car was parked down the road. She grabbed a pair of sunglasses from her purse and placed them upon her nose, hoping to disguise her identity for a while so she could shop in peace. Alfred unlocked his car and climbed into the drivers seat of the shiny new automobile, and Marilyn went around to get into the passengers seat. 

"Any place in particular?" Alfred asked, starting the ignition and turning onto the road. "Not sure. I guess we could try a few dress shops. I need to pick out a dress for when I meet the queen!" She said excitedly. Alfred hummed in agreement and drove through town to the nearest dress boutique he could think of. Luckily London was comparatively smaller and more dainty than the expansive lands of the States, and in a few minutes he found the shop he was looking for. The two quickly excited the car and Alfred held the door open for Marilyn to walk through first.

The boutique was decked out in the fanciest dresses Alfred could imagine. Mannequins lined one wall, all dressed in the most lavish and expensive dresses as examples. Another corner held a large shelf filled with different textile samples and various patterns and materials for dresses. In the corner behind a large marble desk, a humble looking older lady looked over at them, and her eyes practically popped out of her head at the sight of Marilyn. She gasped in utter joy. "Oh my goodness! What a lovely young lady you are!" She cooed, rushing over to the star and examining her features, probably mentally debating which kind of dresses would look best on her. The woman had dark hair with streaks of grey pulled back into a tight bun and a pair of circular glasses sitting low on her nose. She was wearing a simple purple dress and black heels.

She then noticed Alfred with her, and smiled fondly. "And hello, Alfred. It's so nice to see you again!" She said, hugging the taller man tightly. Alfred gently hugged back, chuckling. "Hello, Mrs. Strong." Marilyn gave him an odd look. "You two know eachother?" Alfred grinned sheepishly. "I met her a while ago when I went to a tailor to get a suit made for a meeting here in London. The tailor happened to be her husband, and she was helping him unpack some new materials for his shop." "This young man here graciously helped us unpack all of those boxes, too. What a sweet child he is!" She crooned. Alfred blushed, stuttering.

Marilyn laughed at the comment. Mrs. Strong looked the woman up and down. "And who might you be, young lady? Are you Alfred's girlfriend?" She asked hopefully, hands clasped together. Alfred's blush deepened even further, and Marilyn's cheeks dusted pink. "Ah, no, ma'am. We're just good friends. I'm actually married." Marilyn explained with a few nods. Mrs. Strong deflated a bit, but still gave Marilyn a kind smile. "Married!? Sweetheart, you're so young!" "Well, I just turned thirty only two months prior!" Marilyn defended. Mrs. Strong sighed in apparent defeat, shaking her head with a smile on her face.

"Well, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Julia Strong." She held out a hand, which Marilyn shook gracefully. "Marilyn Miller." She said simply. "So, what can I do for you two today?" Mrs. Strong asked as she led the two over to a plush couch in the middle of the store. Within their view they could see many dresses hanging on hooks or on mannequins with tapemeasures around them or pins still stuck into their fabric. "I'm supposed to attend a very important meeting and I need a nice dress to wear." Marilyn explained. Mrs. Strong nodded, glancing around the shop at the dresses.

"Come dear, and let's look over here. I think these dresses might work." She said, leading Marilyn over to a section of the shop. She pulled a dress off the hanger and showed it to the actress. "How about this one?" She asked. The dress was short and a simple dark red, with black lace at the hemline and along the neckline and sleeves. Marilyn examined the dress, but finally shook her head. Mrs. Strong put the dress back and the two sorted through a few more dresses.

Marilyn was looking through the dresses when she suddenly came upon one. The dress was sleek and silky, with a rich golden color and a low neckline. She eagerly brought out the dress and placed it against her. "What about this one?" She asked. The tailor studied the dress critically. "Hmm.. Yes, I'm sure this dress could work. You do seem like the more extravagant type." She hummed. "Go ahead and try it on in the dressing rooms in the back."

Marilyn nodded and walked back with the dress. Alfred sighed and tapped his foot as he waited for her on the couch. Mrs. Strong meanwhile walked over to one of the small circular stands where a mannequin was placed with a dress so she could work on it. She set the mannequin onto the floor and cleared off the stage. Within a few minutes, Marilyn called from the dressing rooms, "Uh, Mrs. Strong! This dress doesn't really seem to fit me!" Mrs. Strong frowned and went back to the dressing rooms, Marilyn opening the door to let her in. Alfred carefully listened to the muffled but amusing conversation. "Oh dear! This dress will have to be altered to fit you." "It's really tight in the chest.." Marilyn murmured uncomfortably. 

A few moments later, Marilyn was lead out of the dressing rooms, still in the dress. Mrs. Strong quickly lead her over to the circular stand, and helped her step up onto it and face a whole body mirror. She quickly got to work, sewing into the dress to loosen some parts and tighten others. Eventually she was able to modify the dress to at least fit Marilyn well enough to stay up right. "Your waist is so tiny! I swear I've never seen anything like it!" The lady cried in disbelief and even a tinge of jealousy. Marilyn laughed awkwardly. "So.. how long would these modifications take?" She asked. "About.. one or two weeks I suppose?" Mrs. Strong replied. The actress let out a breath. "Oh good. This event isn't until October. Plenty of time to get this done." 

Mrs. Strong took Marilyn's measurements and then the two discussed the cost of the dress and the alterations. When they eventually came to an agreement and Marilyn payed for the dress, she and Alfred were finally able to depart from the store. She sighed heavily as they walked down the street. Alfred turned to her. "You need a drink?" "Y-Well, could we go get some coffee or something instead?" She asked. Alfred raised an eyebrow but nodded. The woman usually loved a bit of alcohol after a hard day of work.

He led her down the block to a small little coffee shop, the scent of coffee beans and pastries wafting into the air. They ordered their drinks and sat at a table near the window, nursing their hot cups. After a few sips, Marilyn leaned forward to put her head in her hands. "There's something I should probably tell you." She said, smiling shyly. "Sure, what is it?" He replied. "So.. I only found this out today.. and I'm not exactly sure when I should tell people this. But we're really close, and I guess now is a good time. But..." She took a deep breath, sitting up with her coffee and grinning down into it. "I'm expecting." 

There was a long pause as the words registered in Alfred's mind. He blinked, slowly setting down his coffee.  _"What?"_ Alfred whispered, completely stunned. Marilyn laughed. "Can you believe it? I'm gonna be a mother!" Alfred stared at her, mouth dropped open in shock. Then he quickly jumped up and rushed around to her side of the table, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh my god, Marilyn!" He gasps. Marilyn laughs as she quickly returns his embrace, reveling in the truth of the moment. She, Marilyn Monroe, was finally going to fulfill her greatest dream: she was going to become a mother. She felt her eyes water at such a notion, and fought to keep her emotions in check. It was good to have someone to celebrate this moment with her, especially since her husband was 3,000 miles away.

Finally, Alfred released her. "Have you told anybody else? Arthur? Greene? Anybody?" Marilyn hesitated. "Well, not really. I'm considering telling Milton and the others after I go to the hospital to get evaluated and make sure everything is alright with the baby and I'm 100% confirmed pregnant." Alfred nodded slowly. He glanced outside of the coffee shop. The sun was beginning to set. Soon it was going to be dark out. He sighed. "Well, you could probably go and get that evaluation done early tomorrow morning before filming or just after." She nodded in agreement. 

"We should probably get you back to the hotel first. I'm sure Milton and the others are wondering where you are." Alfred stated, already leading her towards the door. By the time they returned to the hotel, it was about time for dinner. Milton was relieved to finally find the two again after disappearing for a few hours, and told them that they were going to head out to a restaurant for dinner in about 30 minutes. They were wanting to celebrate the release of the picture Bus Stop. Alfred and Marilyn exchanged looks. Tonight would certainly be a celebration, but it would be of something far more important than a film.

* * *

 

September 5th, 1956

 

On September the second, Marilyn finally got around to telling Milton and his family about her pregnancy. Alfred sat there quietly, a grin on his face as he watched Marilyn sit the couple down to announce the news. Their reaction was instantaneous. The two had yelled out in shock and happiness, embracing Marilyn and congratulating her over and over. After they settled down eventually, they bombarded her with questions. "How far along are you?" "Do you know the gender?" "Are you wanting to go back to the states and pause filming?" "Have you told Miller?" 

Marilyn called out over their questions. "Hold on hold on! I can only answer one question at a time! All I know is that I'm a few weeks, perhaps a month, along and I do not know the gender yet." She clarified. "Honey, have you told Miller about this yet? He's got to know about this soon so he can come back here to be with you." Mrs. Greene cautioned. Marilyn slowly shook her head. "No, not yet. But I'm planning on it soon. I just have to figure out what I'm gonna say and how I'm going to explain everything." 

Now, she had finally gathered the courage to break the news to Miller. Everyone sat around in Marilyn's room to listen to her phone call with her husband. She spoke gently to him, telling him the happy news and then discussing living arrangements. Miller had immediately announced his intentions to fly back to England tomorrow, something that delighted Marilyn. They would finish up production on The Prince and the Showgirl and then immediately fly back to the states so Marilyn could relax at their home and have a comfortable pregnancy.

After hanging up the phone, the party celebrated. They ordered a large meal to be delivered to the hotel room, along with some chocolate fudge cake and champagne. But Marilyn was refused the sparkling drink, per Mrs. Greene's orders: "I've had a child and know all about pregnancy. You, young lady, are going nowhere near this drink!" Marilyn pouted and Alfred snickered. 

By the time their celebration was complete, everybody had left to go to sleep and Alfred was preparing to leave to head back to his room. There was still film production to be done tomorrow. Before he could leave, Marilyn grabbed him by the arm gently. He looked back at her. "Hey, I just want to thank you.. again. You've done so much for me, and have been there for me since the beginning. I know in the past.. I havent exactly treated you the way I should've. And I'm sorry. I just hope you can continue to be there for me as I go through this pregnancy. I've never done this before." She confessed shyly, her eyes bright and open and honest. Alfred could tell her words were truly coming from the heart, and he could feel his own heart swell. 

"Of course, Mary. And don't worry. What happened between us was just.. ill-timed. I understand. This is the path that was meant for you. And I'll always support that." He said softly. She smiled and hugged him as if hugging a long lost best friend. He hugged back, then made to leave. She stopped him again, though. When he turned back once more, she quickly leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you." She whispered, finally releasing him. Alfred blushed at the kiss, and could only nod and stutter as he quickly left the room and began the walk over to his room a few floors above Marilyn's. 

He definitely wouldn't get much sleep tonight with all that he had to think about.


	42. Ill-fated Innocence

September 8th, 1956

 

After Miller's arrival back in London, the couple seemed to transform into something Alfred had rarely seen before. He was by Marilyn's side almost constantly, always checking up on her and making sure she stayed healthy and rested. She still had filming to do on Prince and the Showgirl, which made Miller constantly anxious and worried that she was working too much and it would endanger the baby. As soon as filming for the day wrapped up, she was taken home to rest. 

But while the cast and crew of the film were happy for the couple and Marilyn's pregnancy, it only made things more complicated on set. Marilyn had begun to develop a reputation for showing up late to the studio, something that greatly aggravated her director and co-star Lawrence Olivier. The actors liked the joke that Marilyn could never say a line the same way twice, and she refused to do any work at all without consulting her acting coach, Paula Strasberg.

Tensions were beginning to run a little high on set. At one point during filming, when Marilyn was again having trouble with her lines, Olivier joked with her that all she had to worry about was to "try and be sexy!" This immediately upset and angered Marilyn, who was trying to break out of the 'dumb blonde sex symbol' roles and wanted to be taken more seriously as an actress. Alfred tried to console her, but she absolutely refused to let the incident go. 

With tensions running high on set and things seeming to be spiraling downhill as filming dragged on, it should've been no surprise to anybody that it could've gotten worse. After finally completing filming for the day, Marilyn was in a particularly bad mood. Alfred wanted to dismissed her emotional state as simply symptoms of pregnancy, but she still seemed to be more upset than she usually got from the pregnancy symptoms. He tried to walk up to her as she was leaving to go to the hotel, Miller trailing behind her. 

He held out a hand to set on her shoulder. "Hey, Mari-" he tried, but found his hand quickly shrugged off. Marilyn stopped, turning to him impatiently. "Sorry, Al, but I really don't want to deal with anything at the moment," she murmured, looking away. "I'm just frustrated and upset right now. Let's talk later." She finished, turning again and quickly exiting the building, Miller close behind her. Alfred stared back at them, silent. He knew he should just give her some time to herself, that she was just having a bad day and she had tried to at least dismiss Alfred nicely, but he still felt a bit stung by the sudden rebuttal. He sighed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and turning to go back to the set to help put up all the equipment for the day. If Marilyn had anything she wanted to talk to him about, she could do it after calming down a bit. 

By the time Alfred reached the hotel about an hour later, something seemed to have changed about the place. It felt... different, somehow. Usually there was press hanging around the building, hoping to get some photos or interviews with Marilyn or Miller, a few other actors staying in the hotel as well, or even Milton and his wife. Instead, there was nobody. Just the typical guests streaming in and out of the large marble structure. Everybody also liked to gather at Marilyn and Miller's room for dinner after filming. But when he went and knocked on their door, nobody answered. 

Confused, Alfred began to walk back down the hall. Could they have gone out to eat instead? Did they just need some time alone? With Marilyn being so irritable that day, it wouldn't surprise Alfred if she just wanted to spend the day alone, maybe going for a walk or going out to eat with just her husband. Wanting to answer his questions, he arrived in front of Greene's and his wife's room and knocked on their door. In a few moments, the door was opened, and Alfred was confronted with a completely stunning scene.

In front of him stood a very teary Mrs. Greene. The young woman was red-faced, eyes shining, and a few tears making their way down her cheeks. She wiped the tears away as she looked at Alfred, taking breaths to compose herself. "Oh, Alfred, dear.." she whispered. "It's so awful." Alfred felt ice water flood his veins. "Mrs. Greene.. what's wrong?" Alfred whispered, flabbergasted at the situation. The woman gave him a confused look through her tears. "You.. you haven't heard?" 

That only made Alfred even more panicked. He shook his head rapidly. Mrs. Greene let out a breath, then grabbed his arm and led him into the room, closing the door behind them. She led him over to the living room, sitting him down on the couch and settling down next to him. Then she began. "Dear, it is going to be hard to explain this.. absolute tragedy to you." She whispered, voice shaky. "What's wrong? What happened?" Alfred urged her. He didn't have time for this. He needed to know what was going on. Mrs. Greene couldn't look him in the eye, instead pretending to be interested in flattening out the skirt of her dress. She sighed. "Well, Marilyn and Miller.. they got  back here about thirty or so minutes ago. Marilyn complained of feeling ill, said that she wanted to just go and lay down for a while. Milton and I agreed and the two went back to their room. A few minutes later, I was about to start cooking dinner when a frantic knock came at the door. Milton answered it, and it was Arthur. He was absolutely frantic, and said to him that Marilyn needed to go to the hospital. That she had begun to bleed rapidly and was in excruciating pain in her stomach."

"Milton told me to stay here and keep an eye on things, while he and Arthur took Marilyn to the hospital. I fear that.." she paused, wiping a few more tears from her cheeks. Alfred, meanwhile, felt as if his heart had stopped beating in his chest. A sense of dread washed over him, and he immediately knew what had probably happened, even if Mrs. Greene hadn't said it.

But he still wanted her to confirm what he knew had happened. 

"...What..?" Alfred whispered. Mrs. Greene was silent, trying to muster up her control. Shakily, she responded, "I believe that she has miscarried her child." Silence filled the room. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Then, Alfred got up, heading for the door. "W-Where are you going?" Mrs. Greene called after him. "Alfred, dear, I don't think it is such a good idea to go over and see her! Perhaps she just needs some time to herself to come to terms with this-" Alfred turned around, hand on the doorknob. "With all due respect, Mrs. Greene, she's my friend. I have to be there for her too." He said. Having no reply to his statement, the woman reluctantly consented, nodding her head sadly. Then, Alfred left the room, and rushed down the hallway to get to his car.

* * *

 

 Alfred still hated hospitals. But it was somehow even worse when you were the one waiting for the patient. You had no idea if the person was okay or not, and you were forced to torture yourself with "what if's" for hours until finally you received clarification. 

He did manage to find Miller and Greene sitting in the waiting area when he arrived, though. The two men sat with slumped shoulders, their faces downcast with sadness and intense worry. Miller seemed like he was thinking very hard about something. Greene caught sight of Alfred, and quickly motioned him over to them. Alfred sat in the seat next to Greene, and the two discussed Marilyn's situation, and what this could mean for her. 

Greene told Alfred his version of the events that happened not long ago, and taking Marilyn to the hospital. "She was in so much pain. It broke our hearts." Greene whispered sadly. "She was rushed to the hospital as fast as possible, and was taken to a room as soon as we arrived. Miller and I weren't allowed to go with her. So we've been here waiting ever since." He explained. Alfred nodded slowly. "Any updates since then?" He asked the man. Greene shook his head. "No, nothing. But I suspect she will be allowed visitors soon." "I sure hope so," Alfred sighed. "I hope she's okay." 

Greene agreed, and for a while after that the three men just sat there, completely consumed with worry. Alfred could do nothing but study the plain white walls of the waiting room, with dark chairs all along the walls and small tables set up around the room with more chairs for people to sit. There was a potted plant in one corner, a shelf of novels and magazines, and not much else. There were only a few other patients sitting in the waiting room, who paid the trio no attention. 

Finally, a doctor emerged from a door in the corner and stepped into the waiting area. Alfred's, Miller's, and Greene's heads all snapped up at the words, "Mrs. Miller?" The group quickly stood and the doctor looked them over. "Ah, gentlemen, two is the maximum amount of guests Mrs. Miller can have at the moment." He said. Alfred's shoulders slumped. The three looked over at each other, and Alfred spoke up. "You two go ahead. I can go visit her after you guys are done." "Are you sure, Alfred?" Miller asked slowly. "Yes, Alfred. I could wait here instead-" Greene started, and Alfred held up a hand to stop him. "No, it's alright. You two go ahead." Alfred said firmly, sitting down once again. Miller and Greene exchanged glances silently, before turning and following the doctor out of the room.

Alfred sighed to himself, now sitting alone. He busied himself by thinking about what we was going to say to Marilyn when he saw her. What could he say to someone who had just had a miscarriage? Who just lost her baby? He couldn't imagine losing one of his states. The pain she was going through must be unimaginable. He supposed his best bet was to just comfort her and let her know that she wasn't going through this alone. No matter what, she'd always have him and Miller and all of their friends to help her.

Time passed both agonizingly slow and painfully fast. Greene and Miller re-entered the waiting room about forty minutes later. Both looked even more somber than when they went in. Greene walked over to Alfred and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You go on ahead. I wanna take Arthur home, he could use some rest after all this." He whispered. Alfred nodded, and Greene told him the directions to Marilyn's room before exiting the building with Miller.

As Alfred wove his way through the halls, he felt his heartbeat speed up. He could practically sense her nearby. And when he arrived in front of her door, he took a deep breath, slowly reached for the doorknob, and entered the room. 

The room was deadly quiet when he entered. One side of the room had many cabinets and a sink, basic setups for medical supplies. The other had Marilyn's bed, each side of it with a curtain that was pulled back. The woman seemed tiny in the large bad. The most obvious clue that it was her were the blonde curls sticking out all over the place. She was in a blue hospital gown, and her face was slightly angled away from him. She was looking down at the bed, her eyes either closed or almost so. 

He slowly approached her, taking a seat in a chair beside her bed. He remembered, years ago, when he had been the one to be in the bed and Marilyn was the one at his bedside. And how he and Marilyn nearly kissed then. Oh, how things have changed since then...

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked her, softly. She said nothing in response for a moment. Just when Alfred was about to try asking a different question, she murmured, "I lost my baby." Alfred's heart shattered in his chest. "Mary..." he whispered. She slowly looked up into his eyes. In them, Alfred could see absolute heartbreak. It was such a contrast to her wedding day, when he saw eyes full of hope and dreams. "Why..? Why is it that my life has to be hell for me? Why can't I just have this  _one damn thing._ " She hissed. Alfred looked at her with pity as she shook her head to herself. "Mary, you will have children someday, I promise you that." He soothed. Marilyn exhaled, and Alfred suddenly saw tears falling from her eyes. She furiously wiped them away, but the tears did not lessen. "It's just not  _fair.._ " She whimpered. 

Alfred held out his arms to her, and she quickly fell into them, crying softly. He attempted to soothe her as she cried against his shoulder, her tears wetting the leather of his bomber jacket. "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's gonna be okay." Alfred whispered to her, gently rocking her in his arms. "This isn't the end. There's still so much time to have children. And you know what? You're going to have plenty of them. You're going to have as many children as you want, and you're going to be the best mother in the world. Of that, I have no doubts." He said. Marilyn's crying quieted a bit after a while of comforting words, and she mumbled a sad, "I hope so. I really hope you're right about that." 

"Have I ever been wrong about anything before?" Alfred asked her. She smiled faintly in response. "You mean besides everything else in your life, you big dope?" She joked fondly. Alfred chuckled. "Well, there was that time where-"

His next attempt at humor was suddenly lost. Without warning, he found Marilyn's lips pressed against his own. After getting over the initial shock, he slowly returned the kiss. He figured she'd want any kind of comfort she could get, and being enveloped in the arms of her best friend as well as the drugs most likely pumping through her veins through her IV could possibly make her a bit woozy and slightly reckless. His eyes slid closed and he kissed her softly. Before, he had marveled at how perfectly they seemed to fit together when they kissed, and he was slightly relieved that that hadn't changed. And the thought made him feel all warm inside.

Marilyn eventually pulled away from him, but kept a close distance. "Just a friend kiss?" She murmured. Alfred smiled back a bit. "Yeah. Okay," he whispered. "Just a friend kiss."


	43. Royal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol ok wow I haven't updated in a while. Sorry about that!!! To make up for it I put some more pictures. Enjoy!!

 

October 11th, 1956

 

The filming for Prince and The Showgirl had finally wrapped up a while ago, bringing relief to everyone on set. But especially to the grieving Miller family. Marilyn stayed in the hospital for a few weeks before being discharged, still in the midst of a depression after the loss of her child. Still, she fought through the filming days, trying to hide her mourning from everybody else. When filming was done, she and Miller decided to stay in London until late October. Alfred and the Greenes decided to remain with them as well, wanting to console them whenever possible.

After mourning for a few weeks, however, Mrs. Greene decided enough was enough. Desperate to get Marilyn's spirits up, she suggested that she go to the premiere of Miller's latest creation,  _A View From The Bridge._ It was a good idea in Alfred's mind. A play would be just the thing to take the depressed star's mind off of things for a while. And so, Marilyn now sat at her vanity table in her and Miller's hotel room working on her makeup while Mrs. Greene touched up her hair. Alfred sat on the edge of the bed, watching the two ladies.

"Don't worry, dear. You look absolutely stunning." Mrs. Greene cooed, affectionately laying her hands on Marilyn's bare shoulders. Marilyn gave her a small smile in response. She set down her powder brush and palette and took a deep breath. "I'm just nervous is all," she sighed. "Haven't really been out and about much lately." Mrs. Greene set the hairbrush on the vanity table and helped Marilyn stand. "And that is why you're going to see this play and enjoy yourself for once. You could use the break." Marilyn had been in the dress for over three hours now, and yet he still couldn't quite hide the hitch in his breath whenever he looked her over again. 

She was in a tight, dark velvet mermaid dress with a fur shawl over her shoulders and quite extravagant high heels. She glanced into a mirror, turning her face side to side as if to check for some microscopic flaw in her makeup. "I guess I could." She responded. They were interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door. "Are you ladies quite done?" Arthur Miller's slightly muffled voice called from the hallway. "The performance is set to begin soon. We'll run late if we don't leave now." Mrs. Greene quickly finished touching up Marilyn's hair for her before letting her go. "Yes, yes, we know!" The woman called. Marilyn smiled and went to open the door. "Don't worry. I'm ready now. Let's get going." She said as she opened the door, revealing Miller in the doorway in an expensive pressed suit and bow tie. He seemed equally taken aback by Marilyn's attire. It wasn't often that she got so dressed up. 

"My dear," Miller breathed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "You look positively radiant as ever." Marilyn beamed at him. "And you look so handsome!" She cooed, starting to make her way down the hallway with Miller and towards their room door. Alfred and Mrs. Greene followed close behind them, wanting to see them off. The couple would be seeing the performance as a part of a small party. Mrs. Greene declined to attend due to chores she had to work on, and Alfred declined to attend because he felt that the two needed some time to themselves, to help rekindle the bond in their marriage after the loss of their child. 

In the lobby, Alfred tried to discreetly give Marilyn a quick hug, not wanting to attract too much attention from the press. Which was already impossible enough. It's not like it was hard to miss Marilyn Monroe when everybody seemed to crowd around her all the time. "You have fun." He whispered to her. She nodded silently. "I'll try. Who knows? Maybe this is just what I need to really start getting back on my feet." Alfred had noticed the way she seemed to plaster a fake smile onto her face whenever she was in public, especially around the press. And there were a bit more press than usual hanging around, rapidly snapping pictures of the Miller couple and calling out questions to them. She ignored them, instead quickly fleeing the building with Miller's arm around her to guide her out of the crowd. By the time the couple got into a car and started off for the theater, the press had quieted greatly and were starting to slowly disperse. A few, however, were able to take notice of Alfred talking with her. They started to approach him instead, and Alfred quickly turned to make his way back to their floor with Mrs. Greene. 

By the time the two arrived at the Greenes' room, since Alfred didn't really have much to do anyways at the moment, they were both feeling emotionally drained. "I don't know how she handles it all the time. I'd sooner pull out all my hair." Mrs. Greene murmured, immediately going to the kitchen to fix some drinks. Alfred plopped himself onto their living room couch and started to fiddle with the TV. Might as well watch some news while they waited to get back. 

"You want anything to drink? Alcohol, perhaps?" Mrs. Greene asked him from the kitchen. "No thank you! I've never been much of a drinker." Alfred responded. There was a moment of silence. "You are like a unicorn in this world then, my friend." She muttered, and Alfred snickered.

He suddenly arrived at the news channel. On it was a report about the USSR and the unfolding tension surrounding the Hungarian Revolution. His smirk was instantly wiped off his face.

"....You know what, just get me the strongest thing you've got." 

"Got it."

* * *

 October 29th, 1956

 

The golden dress was exactly as he'd remembered it: sparkling, risqué, and low-cut. Perfect for someone like Marilyn, who never much cared for hiding the body, to wear. She'd been requested to wear a more conservative, concealing dress for meeting the queen. But clearly, with a dress as attention-grabbing as this, she made her thoughts on that request clear. 

It had been a while since he had last seen the dress, so much so that he and Marilyn nearly forgot about it with all of the chaos going on. But here it was, and now it was the time to meet the Queen. 

The dress had actually arrived a few days ago, and when it did, Marilyn went over to Alfred's room with it to show him the finishing product. "Well, go try it on!" Alfred insisted. She did, and she looked equally as, if not more, stunning as she had when she went to see the play with Miller a few days prior. The silky golden dress brought out the blue in her eyes and emphasized the golden shine in her curls. Marilyn commented that it made her skin look a bit more pale than she wanted, but Alfred simply responded with, "That means you'll look younger for a longer period of time, right?" 

Now, on the day of the big meeting, everyone was once again gathered around in Marilyn and Arthur's room, preparing Marilyn for meeting the Queen of England. Marilyn was working on her makeup at her vanity while Mrs. Greene finished up the star's hair. Alfred was also working on his hair in a large mirror on the opposite side of the room. He could never get that one stupid curl to stay down! He eventually gave up and stepped back, looking over himself and his neat tuxedo. This time he would be attending, since England would also be there and they could all go see the movie premiere together. 

The specific event was a premiere of The Battle of The River Plate at the Empire Theater in London. Many other A-list celebrities were invited to attend the premiere, and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet the Queen. Obviously, everyone was excited about the event. Alfred also wanted to enjoy the night while it lasted, since he would be flying back to the States in about two days. It was high time he return to the White House and be with his boss and First Lady in helping run the country. He also had plenty of paperwork he'd have to do once he got back, as well. He'd be leaving England much earlier than the Miller couple, who were planning to stay until around November 20th. So he wouldn't be seeing Marilyn for close to a month after he left.

Eventually, it was time to leave for the premiere. Miller and Marilyn would be arriving by taxi and Alfred would drive his own car. The two vehicles would follow each other until they reached the theater and Alfred would take a more private entrance, reserved for high ranking government officials and leaders (although Marilyn obviously didn't know that). There, he would meet England and the two would make their way to the theater lobby where the queen would be greeting the special guests.

Everybody eventually set off to the theater, Marilyn and Arthur leaving to catch their cab just down the street from the hotel. Meanwhile, alfred went to the opposite side of the building to his car and immediately set off for the theater. The streets were more jam packed than usual. Practically all major celebrities would be attending this premiere, mostly to meet the queen. By the time Alfred finally managed to find a parking space and all but sprinted around to the back of the building to discreetly enter through the back entrance, the guest meetings had just begun. 

He found England pacing back and forth just inside the back entryway. He could hear the muffled sounds of a crowd and flashing cameras through the door and down the hall behind him. "There you are, you shameful git! I've been waiting here for twenty minutes!" England hissed. He was dressed in a perfectly pressed black suit with a red rose pinned to the breast pocket and shoes so shiny they probably could've passed for being wet. He didn't give America much time to respond, immediately grabbing his arm and dragging him through the door and started down the hallway.

"Sorry Iggy. You know how crazy traffic is tonight." He mumbled. "That's why you're supposed to leave earlier, you twit." England muttered in response. He let go of America's arm as they entered the massive main lobby. All around him were ecstatic press and flashing lights. He could barely see through all the raised cameras, and England led him over to where it was a bit less crowded. "After Her Majesty is finished greeting the special guests, we will disperse to go and watch the premiere. I'm going to watch the show with the queen. You can go and find Mr. and Mrs. Miller after this is done, as well." England explained as they watched the greetings take place. 

All of the guests were lined up next to each other, and slowly but surely, Queen Elizabeth and a few other people were making their way down the long line, making sure to shake each hand and add in short comments and welcomes. Alfred was immediately able to spot Marilyn in the long line, her flashy golden dress contrasting sharply against the many black tuxedos all around her. 

They watched in silence as the queen eventually arrived in front of Marilyn, and the two women looked each other in the eyes for the first time. Both smiled brightly at each other, Marilyn giving a polite little bow for the monarch in front of her. The queen shook her hand, and seemed to ask Marilyn a question. 

"Same age, very different lives." England said distantly, watching the two ambitious women and contemplating how different they were, how different their achievements and goals were and yet how famous and admired they were at the same time. Alfred didn't say anything, but he found himself agreeing to the statement. 

He smirked a little. Or maybe not so much. After all, Marilyn could count as a queen too, right? At least to him she always would be.

 


	44. Loyal

January 10, 1957

 

Alfred watched the snow gently drift to the ground outside the large window next to him. The world meeting currently going on around him sounded drowned out to his ears, despite the fact that Germany was yelling at Italy and France and England were fighting over who had the best music. He'd already given his presentation, which was basically a plan to send all the commies into the sun (NASA is totally working on the technology!) in order to defeat the plague on Earth known as communism. Which resulted in a big fight between the capitalist and communist countries. Eventually, Germany just yelled at everyone to shut up and dragged America back to his seat. "If you can be respectful und polite with your fellow countries, then don't bother opening your mouth to speak!" The frightening German had hissed before continuing on with the meeting.

Everyone else was too scared of Germany to interrupt the meeting again, so the room stayed quiet and took notes as Hungary gave her report about her economic turmoil as a result of the Hungarian revolution being crushed by the Red Army in November. Eventually Alfred just got bored and decided to stare out the window instead. He thought about his States, some of whom were waiting back at his New York home for him to arrive once the meeting was over. He thought about Marilyn, who was vacationing in Jamaica with Miller for the next few days. Marilyn had repeatedly said how tired and worn out she was from a long filming period, miscarriage, and the press constantly hounding her wherever she went. She hoped this small vacation with her husband would help refresh her mentally and emotionally. Alfred wanted this trip to be a success for her, too. He'd seen her drinking more alcohol than usual lately on account of stress and insomnia, and it had started to worry him.

Alfred jumped, startled, from a hand landing on his shoulder. He turned to see France sitting next to him. The Frenchman gave him a wink and leaned forward to whisper into Alfred's ear. "After the meeting, a few of us are going to go and get some drinks. You will join us,  _oui?"_ America opened his mouth to decline, then snapped it shut. "France... I really don't know if I can do that. I kinda have some people to meet up with later-" he whispered back. 

France would have none of it. "Oh come now,  _mon chaton._ We have seen so little of each other lately! You simply must come and tell big brother all about your life so far. Besides, it is only a few drinks,  _non?"_

And that was how America found himself dragged to a bar down the street from the UN building. Or at least, that's what Alfred wanted to call it. What should've been a bar was actually more like a nightclub. Leave it to France to go get laid just after a meeting. Alfred had tried to escape earlier, but France and his friends were always within the immediate vicinity of Alfred. Knowing he couldn't escape and might as well make the best of it, he sat at the bar nursing a bottle of alcohol glumly. 

He leaned his head against his hand as he stared down at the wooden countertop, the music blaring into his ears and the lights shining into his eyes. Behind him was the dance floor, situated in front of a stage where hired exotic dancers were moving along to the beat onstage. The dance floor itself was crowded with patrons dancing around, and he was surrounded on both sides with drunk patrons trying to start fights with eachother or trying to entice a pretty woman into going to one of the back rooms the club had for a while. Some of the women were also going around, chatting up different guys and trying to seduce them. 

After having more alcohol than he'd intended, Alfred heard a slightly muffled voice call out through the loud bass music. "Hey, Alfred, bro! Where ya been!" He recognized Prussia's voice, and turned to see the German ex-nation making his way through the crowds toward him, a scantily clad woman on each arm. Prussia was still in his suit from the meeting, but with his tie mysteriously disappeared, his suit jacket rumpled up and a few buttons on his shirt undone. Alfred scoffed to himself at the sight, but responded none the less. "Hey, Gil. I've just been busy working. You?" 

"Honestly I'm too drunk right now to give a damn!" He followed that with a loud cackle. "Must've been pretty unawesome though if I was this desperate enough to get away!" Alfred gave him a half hearted grin, trying to sound upbeat but not really feeling it tonight. "Ha! Same here." Prussia rolled his eyes. "Cut the bullshit, Al. We can see you moping over here from miles away. Ya gotta let loose sometimes and party, y'know?" Alfred sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm just not... feeling it tonight, is all." 

Prussia stared at America for a while, his drunk mind whirring. Then a wicked grin crossed his face. "Yeah, I totally understand bro. Can't really find anybody here who you really like, huh?"

America blinked. "Uh.. what..?" "Don't you worry, bro! You just let your best friend Gilbert take care of that!" Prussia proclaimed with a wolfish grin on his face. He snapped his fingers and called out from behind him. "Hey, Veronica! Get your ass over here and meet my friend!" 

Immeditaley a woman approached them and arrived to stand next to Prussia. She had short, curly blonde hair, brown eyes, and an obvious amount of makeup on her face. Her dress was a low cut red number, to where you could almost see her ass and the tightness of it left nothing to the imagination. She had equally gaudy red stilettos, and was standing with one hand on her hip, eyes Alfred once Prussia motioned to him. He could see the jealous stares of the other drunk men around him. 

"You know what to do, doll." Prussia crooned to her, before sending one last wolfish look towards Alfred and turning away with his two escorts. "Only the best for you, Al!" He called as he walked away, cackling. 

America stared in shock and confusion as the woman approached Alfred, getting close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck. "Come with me, baby." She whispered seductively. Alfred was too stunned to do anything, and although he wanted to resist, for some reason he had suddenly lost all strength within him as the woman took his hand and led him through the crowds and down a hallway until they arrived at a room. 

She nudged him inside and shut the door behind her, turning the lock. Immediately the room became much quieter, the music outside only a muddled blur. Inside the room was four barren white walls and a bed. "H-Hey, listen, lady. I'm.. I'm flattered and all.. b-but I can't-" The woman placed a dainty finger over his lips, smiling hungrily and saying, "Dont worry, sweetheart. I'll take good care of you." Before covering his mouth with hers. 

Immediately he wanted to shove her away, to run, to go back to his home where his children were waiting and probably wondering where he was. Then he felt her grab his hands and place them around her waist. His drunk mind was churning wildly, and all he could really register was the intense kissing and his hands on her hips, the rest of the world almost spinning around him. 

He felt himself relaxing slightly at the touching, trying to assure his drunk self that it was okay, that this was who his mind was registering it was. Just to be sure though, he moved a hand up to weave it through her hair, and was immediately met with soft, short curls. At that, he relaxed even more, becoming more confident in his actions. He felt her slide his jacket off his arms, tossing it to the side.

The woman moved Alfred backwards until his knees hit the bed, and he felt her shove him onto it. He grunted as he hit the mattress, but had no time to register it before he felt the woman crawl on top of him, hotly pressing her lips against his once more. Alfred didn't actually have that much skill in the bedroom, although he wasn't a virgin. He just hoped that would be okay with the lady above him, who was now sitting up, seated firmly on Alfred's waist. She reached back to unzip the dress and slide it down to her waist level, leaving her upper half in nothing but a silky bullet bra. 

Alfred gulped, his cheeks reddening slightly. The woman smiled, giggling as she reached for his belt. "Like what you see? Don't worry, dear. You'll get much more soon enough." She started to undo it. "I-I... M-Marilyn.." he gasped, eyes snapping shut. He felt her pause slightly. "It's Veronica, dear." She corrected, a bit awkwardly. Stunned, Alfred looked up at her eyes, wanting to see her bright, intelligent blue-

He was met with dark brown, lusting eyes. Alfred stiffened. No... 

He suddenly shoved the girl off of him, scrambling from the bed. He had been so certain it was... what had happened..? 

The memories were a bit hazy, and he drunkenly stumbled a bit, but he could remember a few things at that moment. This was a night club. He could just now register the muffled music from behind the door again. Prussia had sent him this girl. This girl wasn't Marilyn. Marilyn wasn't even here. But then the question rang out,  _why do I even care?_

Marilyn is married. Alfred is single. Why did she matter in what relationships Alfred had? Unable to think of any answers, he snatched his jacket from the floor and threw it on. "I-I'm sorry.. but, I can't." He stuttered at the girl, who sat shocked and still on the bed, staring at him in complete confusion. 

And with that, he ran.

* * *

 

Not trusting himself to drive like this, Alfred chose instead to walk down the dark, cold streets of New York. He could hail a taxi to his street once he was done thinking. The city that never sleeps was living up to its name. He was surrounded by crowds of people and flashing lights all around him. 

He walked around for a while, thinking about what almost happened. The hum of the city soothed him in a way, made him feel less alone at a moment where he felt more alone than he ever had before. 

His drunkenness still made him stumble sometimes, but the cool air made him feel more alert than before. With that, he walked and he walked and he walked. 

He walked throughout Times Square. He walked past broadway. He even walked down to the harbor where he used to sit and wait for England's ship to arrive over 200 years ago. 

At this quiet place, he sat down once more and watched the waves crash against the rocks and dock posts below. The repetitive sounds soothed him, the salty scent of sea water clearing his mind. Here, he could truly feel tiny. One small person sitting next to the vast ocean in front of him.

He rememebred staring out at this vast ocean and wishing he could fly over it one day.

He eventually stood to leave, having lost track of time. By now it was probably close to 2:00 AM. By the time he arrived home, he was swarmed with many warm arms, relieved voices, and most of all, the love of his family. 


	45. Dissolved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I was very busy with schoolwork and all that jazz, plus I wanted to take a bit of a break before continuing. I still intend to finish this story no matter what!!!

April 1st, 1957

 

When it came time for Marilyn to preview the picture she had worked on in England, The Prince and The Showgirl, she had never been more excited. She had insisted that Miller preview it with her, since he was an expert on drama (being a playwright and all), and that Alfred preview it too, since they always went to see her latest pictures together anyway. 

They were given the tape, which Milton and the directors had gone through and put together into the picture, and prepared themselves to see all their hard work finally brought to life for the first time. Alfred was enjoying himself, impressed and awed by the beautiful scenery and funny acting of the characters. Again, he thought Marilyn looked perfect in her costumes as always. However, as the film progressed, he began to notice Marilyn's reaction. 

The film star was sitting quietly, a frown increasing on her face. Miller seemed to understand what she was so upset about, but Alfred remained bewildered. When the tape ended, it clicked off and everybody sat in dead silence for about a minute. Then, Marilyn slowly rose to her feet. "Dear..?" Miller began to ask her, reaching for her arm unsurely. The clearly distraught woman was shaking her head, pacing the room and growling to herself. "What the hell was that!?" She hissed finally, looking up. Alfred could see the lividness and disappointment in her face. "What.. do you mean?" He asked her, stunned. "Do you not like it? I thought it was pretty good." 

"No, no!" Marilyn insisted. "It's awful! There's been so many changes! So many scenes taken out!" She cried. "I understand, sweetheart. Clearly there is a problem with our film team." Miller interjected, his face showing clear annoyance. Marilyn stopped. "What..?" She asked quietly. "You know who I mean. This is clearly the fault of Milton Greene. That man helped make these changes to the picture. And I'm not even sure he knew which sleeping pills he was giving you during filming. They weren't even the same color as the ones you typically use." He explained. 

Marilyn looked down. "I.. I guess so. I mean, I have been a bit suspicious of him lately. I feel like he's been using Marilyn Monroe Production's money for his own expenses. But.." Miller interrupted, standing up and walking over to his wife. He gently grabbed her arms, and spoke to her softly. "Baby, you know you can't continue on with a partnership you can't fully trust." He said. Marilyn was silent. Alfred was the same way. Get rid of Milton? He and Marilyn had been friends for almost as long as Alfred and Marilyn had been friends. He and his wife Amy, who had been excitedly talking about plans to have a second child for a while now, had even offered shelter to Marilyn briefly after she divorced Joe. She had stayed with them in their quiet Connecticut home to escape the studio for a while, babysitting their young child, walking down to eat at nice cafes, even making her own bed and doing her own dishes.

Alfred had known for a while that Miller was possibly jealous of Milton. That he thought he was up to no good. And chances were he also thought the same about Alfred. But Milton was Marilyn's close friend and confidant, as well as her photographer. Alfred had grown close to him and his little family as well. Marilyn couldn't possibly just toss Milton away...

Marilyn looked down. "I.. you're right." She whispered. "But, I don't know what to do about this. I'm worried about what this could mean for my career. My production company.." She trailed off. Miller squeezed her arms. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby. Let me handle this." Marilyn looked up at Miller, then slowly nodded. 

Alfred could only watch in complete shock. As unsure as he was about what this could mean for Marilyn, he was at least sure of one thing: without those sleeping pills Milton gave her, Marilyn wouldn't even have been able to film that picture.

* * *

April 16th, 1957

The door to the meeting room opened quietly, and in stepped a lone figure. 

Milton Greene was silent as he walked into the room. The sight he was greeted with was not a friendly one. The expression on his face was neutral, but Alfred could tell he was trying to suppress feelings of immense hurt and betrayal. His heart immediately went out to this man. This friend of theirs for so long. 

Greene even met Alfred's eyes for a brief moment, and Alfred tried to give him a small smile, but the photographer just looked at him for a moment and then turned away. Alfred's smile faltered. Instead, he focused his sights on the men gathered in front of him. Arthur Miller stood, Marilyn holding his hand next to him. The couple was flanked on both sides by Miller's various lawyers. All looked at Greene with expressions of indifference. 

"Mr. Greene, thank you for coming. We have much to settle." Miller began. "Why? I already know what you want." Greene responded tersely. He gave the playwright a malicious glare. "And if that's what Marilyn wants, then fine. I will resign my post as president of Marilyn Monroe Productions." He stated finally. The room was silent for a bit. 

Unsurely, Miller spoke up again. "Well... good. That's good. My lawyers here will provide you the legal documents to remove yourself from the position." He nodded at one of the nicely dressed men, who provided a few sheets of paper from his briefcase and passed them to Miller. Miller pulled out a pen from his suit pocket and silently slid the forms across the table to Greene. Without saying a word, Greene slowly picked up the pen and began quickly reading through the documents. "Now, as a last-" "Wait a moment.." Greene interrupted. Everybody stared. 

"It says here that you're going to be succeeding me. You're going to become the president of this production company in my place?" Greene asked, looking and sounding a bit flabbergasted despite his obvious attempts at neutrality. Miller cleared his threat. "Ah, yes. Yes I will. Marilyn and I have discussed at length who would take up this position. And since I already play a role in our finances and in picking pictures for my wife to work on-" Marilyn visibly flinched. "-We have decided that I would be best fit for this role. That isn't a problem, right?" 

Greene looked like he wanted to say something, his eyes enraged and his mouth already trying to form words, but then suddenly he looked back down to the paper instead. "Yes... yes, of course." He hissed bitterly. He quickly began signing the documents. "Now, as I was saying, we can close off this deal with a final reimbursement for you and your family. I am prepared to offer you no more than $2,000." Miller said.

He and his lawyers looked as if they were ready to argue if Greene demanded a higher payment for his work. Their determination quickly turned to shock, however, when Greene simply said, "$1,000 is all I want." The room stood still for a very long time. Even Alfred was stunned by the revelation. Eventually, it was Marilyn who spoke up. "But.. Milton-" Her sentence was quickly stopped when Greene turned to look at her in the eyes for the first time since he walked in the room. Except this time his eyes were no longer enraged. Instead, a look of sadness filled them. It was then that Alfred realized how much older Greene seemed. Even though he was only a few years older than Marilyn, his sad eyes and slumped shoulders made him appear a decade older. 

He put down the pen, finished signing all the documents. He stood from the table, but before he left, he turned to Marilyn once more. 

"Let it never be said that I was one of the people who always demanded more from you." 

Then he turned, his footsteps loud in the silent room, opened the meeting room door, and stepped out. 

* * *

 April 18th, 1957

 

Despite the events of a few days ago, time continued to move forward. Marilyn continued to practice very often with her acting coach, Lee Strasberg, and Miller was working on various other works. Most concerning though, was Miller communist controversy. Miller had been suspected as a member of the communist party, something that frightened Alfred to no end, and had to attend many court cases throughout the past months. In the latest one on March first, he'd pled not guilty and a trial was scheduled for May. Marilyn was there to support him throughout all of these tough times and stand up in his defense whenever the press made comments. 

As for Marilyn, she had started  Treatment in February at the Doctors Hospital in New York to help her fertility. She was still taking the previous miscarriage hard, but remained determined to try again. "Trust me," she'd said. "I won't stop until I have myself a little baby boy and a baby girl!" 

They had been talking at Marilyn and Miller's quiet home about the subject of having children. More specifically, how her treatment was going and her plans once she has children.

And that was the beginning of the end.

"So, you're saying there's still a chance that you're able to have children, right?" Alfred asked her cautiously. Marilyn nodded. Alfred was sitting in a chair perpendicular to the couch where Marilyn was lounging. "Yeah, I think so. If all goes well. Actually, I think I have the documents my doctor gave me explaining everything here." She said, getting up and moving towards the desk in the corner. It was Miller's work station, and it was covered with stacks of papers and correspondence, and most likely other financial and legal matters pertaining to his court trials coming up. 

Marilyn began rifling through the papers a bit, trying not to disorganize everything and mumbling to herself as she searched for the documents. Suddenly, Alfred could see her move a paper aside and reveal a journal sitting on the table. She paused, confused and curious. "Hey, what is it..?" She wondered, picking it up. Alfred looked at her, confused. She made her way back to the couch and plopped down, examining the book again. "I didn't know Arthur kept a journal.." She murmured. She opened it to the first page. 

Alfred knew snooping around people's things wasn't a good thing to do, but he couldn't really help his own curiosity either. "What's it say?" He asked as Marilyn scanned the page. A small smile emerged on her face. "This one just says how he wants to keep this journal as a way to remember his dreams and his thoughts throughout the day, as well as his business dealings." She continued to flip through the pages. She read aloud some parts that she found most interesting and funny. After a while of this, Marilyn then looked up at Alfred.

"Looks like this is the most recent entry. Wonder what secrets about government takeover he's got here." She joked at him, and Alfred erupted in laughter with her at the reference. Then she began to read. 

Then she paused, eyes widening. She read it again. The smile left her face, replaced by shock and horror. She read it once more. She began to tremble. Alfred wasn't sure what to say or do. "...Mary?" He whispered. "Hey... are you okay?" 

Alfred jumped in his seat at the sound of Marilyn's shout of anger and saw the book be thrown across the room, crashing into the  wall in the opposite corner and slumping against the floor, the pages bent and crumpled as a result. Alfred stared, completely stunned, before snapping his head back towards Marilyn. "Marilyn.. what.." he asked her as the woman hugged herself and began to sob loudly. 

"That bastard! That lying bastard!" She wept, shaking her head furiously. Alfred jumped from his seat and rushed over to sit next to her on the couch, consoling her. "Hey, hey. What did the journal say?" Alfred pleaded. After a few sobs, Marilyn whispered, "It said... it said that he was beginning to regret marrying me. That I was different than what he imagined. That he feared I would compromise his creativity or embarrass him in front of his friends." She managed to say before bursting into tears once more, throwing herself into Alfred's arms. 

Alfred couldn't find anything to say that would cheer her up. So, he just held her as she cried, and prayed that that could be enough for her. This poor woman who had thrown one of her closest friends from her life for a husband that she felt was going to leave her, like everybody else in her life. 


	46. Thy Torment Is Thus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm sorry for such a long wait for this chapter but I kind of got a bit of writing block towards the end of it and I've also been busy with school work. Also, I had to get surgery done for my eye, so I've been recovering from that. I'll try to make the other chapters come out sooner. Sorry again!!

June 13, 1957

 

After the discovery of the journal, Marilyn seemed to flounder, and for good reason. Her life seemed to revolve around the drama from the studio, thoughts and fears of Arthur Miller leaving her, and sleeping pills and alcohol. Her night terrors plagued her, preventing her from getting a good sleep. For a while, the woman seemed to dive into somewhat of a depression, something she was familiar with experiencing. Alfred was left worrying immensely, and was always checking up on her and making sure things at home were going okay. 

He attempted to cheer her up in the best way he could think of. Together, the two of them would visit various children's charities and hospitals to visit the orphans or sick children. The look of love and joy on Marilyn's face each time she layed eyes on a big blue-eyed, blonde haired baby was priceless in Alfred's mind, and it seemed to be working wonders to get her mind off the drama at home. 

By the time premiere of The Prince and the Showgirl came, Marilyn was in much happier spirits than she had been after discovering the journal. Her mood had especially improved in the last week or so, though Alfred wasn't quite sure why. He figured that spending time with these little orphans and pushing her bad thoughts to the side was finally rehabilitating her back to her full potential. 

The streets of New York City seemed to revive the star, and she'd worked to recover from her depression fast. She'd been in well enough spirits to go to a soccer game in Ebbets' Field Stadium and deliver the first kick to the soccer ball (she'd sprained a couple of toes from kicking the ball so hard in high heels, though she tried to brush off the pain). After that she had stayed in Washington DC with Arthur to support him during his court trial over the communistic claims against him. She denied it when Alfred asked, but he could tell that she was doing it perhaps in an attempt to mend their apparently broken and untrustful relationship together. 

On the night of the premiere for Prince and the Showgirl, Marilyn had made a special request of Alfred. "Al," she started. "Miller's busy this weekend, y'know." The two were sitting on a park bench, Marilyn wearing a crazy black wig and sunglasses. Other than that, she was wearing a blue sundress and Alfred was wearing jeans and a light blue button down shirt.  Alfred had to refrain from laughing at her when she went incognito like that. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I heard. With all those legal issues to work out and all. I'm sure it must be hard on you two." Marilyn nodded in response. "Yeah, so he can't accompany me to the premiere tonight. And since we always go together to see the premieres anyway, I wanna ask if you'd be willing to go with me instead?" 

Alfred was honestly shocked. Escort her to the premiere? "Oh Mary, I dunno... we've never really seen these premieres too publicly before. What would the press say? There would be headlines on the front page before we even left the theatre. 'Marilyn Monroe cheating on her husband with an unknown blond man!'" Alfred mock quoted. Marilyn scoffed, smiling. "Oh please. I'm sure nobody would even notice you standing next to me anyway." 

"Gee, you're too kind." Alfred muttered in response. Marilyn laughed and shoved him lightly. "No but seriously. I also have something important to tell you." She grinned, her eyes shining.

"You got me a cherry pie?"

"No!"

"Oh."

She rolled her eyes. "I found out a few days ago and I wanted to wait a little bit before going ahead and just telling everybody about it. But.." here she took a breath. "I'm expecting again."

Alfred gaped at her. "Wait.. really?" He asked, then looking at her stomach. She giggled, nodding her head, and Alfred was smiling happily for her, reaching out to hug her tightly. "Mary! That's wonderful! Let's hope this one brings a lot of luck, yeah?" He beamed, and the superstar nodded in agreement. "And that means you have to go to the premiere with me now." She teased. "What, why?" "You couldn't say no to a pregnant woman, could you?"

Alfred's shoulders slumped. 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Alfred found himself dressed up in one of the itchy suits he usually reserved for world meetings. He shifted uncomfortably in the suit as he drove himself and Marilyn to the movie premiere. Already he could see the large crowds gathering together for the event and they were still a few blocks from the building. "Are you sure about this? I'd hate to be the cause of rumors of an affair or something." Alfred tried desperately.

"If I was having a secret affair with you, I wouldn't be going out in public to a movie premiere with you, now would I?" Marilyn challenged, checking her hair and making sure her makeup was perfect before they pulled up to the entrance. "I guess." Alfred said lamely. The car pulled up to the front of the building and they were almost immediately swarmed by the press. Alfred found fans and the press on all sides of the car, peering in through the windows to get a good look at the actress inside. As word quickly spread around that Marilyn Monroe had arrived, the scene was becoming even more chaotic. Finally, a couple of security personnel pushed through the crowd and opened Marilyn's and Alfred's doors. Alfred quickly made his way to the other side of the car to Marilyn, gently pushing people aside and trying desperately to avoid the urge to rub his eyes in response to the constant flashing of cameras in their face. 

As her escort for the night, Alfred offered his arm to her. She smiled at him and accepted it, weaving her arm through his and beginning to make their way through the crowds, guards flanking them on all sides. Marilyn was in a tight white mermaid dress with thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline. She wore long white gloves, a matching scarf around her neck and a matching purse. Alfred could barely hide his breathlessness at the sight of her before they left for the premiere. It seemed everybody around them felt the same way. He could almost feel the gasps of everybody around them at her dress, tight enough to emphasize the curviness of her figure and cinched waist. It felt like a reminder of sorts. A reminder of exactly who was Marilyn Monroe. In moments like these, Norma Jean didn't exist. She wasn't the shy, funny girl of her youth, but the sexy, breathy, risqué seductress known as Marilyn Monroe. 

It turns out that Alfred's fears were completely unfounded. He was confidant that all of the cameras would be focused on the woman next to him. And if he did happen to be in any photos, he may as well have been invisible.

* * *

 August 1st, 1957

 

"Okay, but seriously, who's better?" 

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Why do you care about this so much?" Marilyn scoffed. "Oh come on! It's a legitimate question! I just want your opinion." "Asking me if I think Jean Harlow deserves to become a Catholic saint because of her amazing fashion sense is not a legitimate question!" Marilyn sighed, and looked back down to her book, muttering, "Killjoy." 

There were a few beats of silence, only marked by the sounds of the television playing and Marilyn flipping some pages in her book from a chair in the corner. "Frank Sinatra on the other hand.." Alfred began suddenly. Marilyn looked back up at him, grinning. "Of course." She simpered. The two burst out laughing together, and a voice called out to them from down the hallway. "Guys, please quiet down! This writing requires my utmost attention!" Miller called. "Sorry, sweetheart!" Marilyn called back, adjusting her position in the chair, her legs folded under her and she rested her weight to one chair arm. 

Alfred turned back to the television, but kept noticing Marilyn shifting in her chair. After a minute, he turned to her. "Are you okay? You seem a little pale. Are you sick?" Alfred asked. Marilyn shook her head. "Just.. some bad stomach cramps lately. They usually go away after a while." Alfred stared at her. "That... doesn't sound good. Do you need to go to the hospital?" Marilyn shook her head furiously. "No, no! It's alright. Trust me." She gave him a small smile, seeming to relax into a comfortable position once more. Alfred didn't feel assured. But nonetheless, he reluctantly turned back to the television that was playing another episode of the Jack Benny show. 

He still didn't feel assured when he left her and Miller's place to return to his. His fears were confirmed when he received a call over lunch. It was from Miller, who sounded absolutely frantic with worry. He told Alfred about how Marilyn had suddenly collapsed in pain not long after Alfred left. They were rushing to the hospital in New York City all the way from her summer home in Amagansett right now. Wanting to be there to comfort his friend, and due to Miller's request for Alfred to bring him some papers he'd left behind in the rush, Alfred snatched up his keys and prepared for the trip to the hospital. He already had an idea of what Marilyn's collapse had meant. 

"Oh, Mary.. you don't deserve this." He murmured sadly to himself as he left. 

He ended up arriving a few hours later, driving like mad into the city and through Times Square to find the hospital. It was very easy to pick out with all the press jamming around the front doors, camera lights flashing. He made his way over the the crowd and tapped the shoulder of one of the photographers, a young man in a nice suit and dark brown hair mostly hidden under a matching hat. The man turned to him curiously. "Hey man, did you see Marilyn enter here? Do you know what's going on?" The man nodded quickly, adjusting his grip on his camera. "Oh yeah! Saw 'er get wheeled in with Miller right beside 'er. There was a towel coverin' her head though, so none of us could get good photos. They say it's another miscarriage though, but that's it's just speculation an' all." He described. 

Alfred nodded slowly. "Alright, thanks." "No problem!" Alfred then pushed his way through the crowd of photographers and eventually made his way into the building. Alfred looked around the crowded lobby in search of Miller. He might be with Marilyn, so he could just go ask-

"Alfred!" Alfred gasped as he felt hands grab him from behind. He whirled around and breathed a sigh at the sight of Marilyn's husband. "I've been waiting for about twenty minutes now. They already took her in." He explained. "Took her in?" Alfred asked him. "For what? What happened?" 

Miller opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, and led Alfred over to the chairs in the corner. They sat down and Miller leaned in close. "I don't want the press shoving their noses where they don't belong. This is a personal issue, after all." He sighed. "Marilyn and I arrived here and were immediately taken to the emergency room. The doctors examined her and ran a few blood tests. They came back a little bit later telling us that Marilyn had another miscarriage." Alfred's breath hitched slightly. He knew it was true, but hearing it be confirmed to him was chilling. "I believe they said it was an ectopic pregnancy. Where the egg settles in the Fallopian tube instead of in the womb. They said... they said it would require surgery and they would have to terminate the pregnancy to save Marilyn's life." 

Alfred sat there, stunned and saddened. He didn't know what to say. "Oh, Miller.. I'm so sorry." He whispered instead. If anything, Miller's face grew sadder. He nodded at Alfred's apology. He knew that Miller wasn't exactly trusting of Alfred and that these two male figures in Marilyn's life had a fairly separate and distant relationship from each other. But at the moment, Miller seemed to forget all of that. For now, it was just two humans united in their concern for this woman. 

They sat there together for hours, trying to absorb that fact. 

By the time Marilyn had recovered from surgery a few days later, the whole country had gossiped about the incident, leaving the star pale in the spotlight of the press. Once again there were crowds of press around the hospital to see Marilyn leave with Miller next to her, holding her head. She forcefully smiled for them as she passed, and climbed into the car to be taken home. Alfred was already in the car, waiting for them. He agreed to drive them home and would have somebody take his car back for him.

Miller helped Marilyn get settled in the back, helping her lay down and tucked blankets around her as cameras flashed from outside the windows of the vehicle. They drove off back to their home, and the second they were away from the cameras, Marilyn's fake smile crumbled. 

 


	47. Puppy Love

  


September 23, 1957

 

Alfred decided to leave the devastated couple alone for a while after the incident, feeling like they could use the time together to grieve and come to terms with the second loss. For the most part, the couple kept to themselves. Despite the rocky patch in their marriage, they seemed to bond over the grief of the loss of their child. Alfred could hardly imagine the kind of pain they were going through. After giving them some room to grieve, he tried to support them however he could. But it was obvious that his advances weren't being received well from Miller. The man seemed even more and more distrustful of Alfred. It was as if he didn't know who or what to blame for the miscarriage, so he instead lay his grievances with Alfred. Sometimes he worried that Miller would try to brutally tear Alfred from Marilyn's life like he did poor Milton. Whenever he tentatively brought up these fears to Marilyn in the past, she would always brush them off as ridiculous and assure him that she would never let that happen; that he was one of her closest friends and he always would.

Eventually, Alfred got an idea that he hoped would cheer the crestfallen and increasingly fragile actress. Over the past few months, she had spent a lot of time attending charity events or visiting orphanages, the very places that she herself came from. So, he decided that perhaps bringing her around these children would cheer her up. A woman who desperately wanted to be a mother but couldn't achieve that would be given a few hours to hold a motherless child as if they were her own. With these thoughts in mind, Alfred convinced Marilyn to come with him to visit and donate to an orphanage with him. "I had already made these plans a while before and I think it's something you would like to do." He'd explained smoothly. Eventually she submitted and Alfred picked her up that Saturday while Miller was working.

She was dressed in casual jeans and shirt with cream heels and tan overcoat and her purse when he picked her up. He knew she wanted to take a break from the tight clothes she usually wore until she lost the little bit of weight she had gained over the course of the doomed pregnancy. Still, she offered him a small but kind smile as she buckled herself in and Alfred began to head towards the highway. "I made sure to bring my checkbook with me," Marilyn spoke up after a moment. "Not quite sure how much I'm gonna write for yet. What about you?" "I always donate about $500 or so." Alfred said. "May not be that much but I'm a little bit... tight on the money lately." 

"That's alright." Marilyn soothed. "Any amount of money helps. Those poor children could use every penny." Her eyes were sad as she reminisced about her own experience as an orphan. 

The ride became quiet for a while. Alfred glanced over at her every once in a while out of the corner of his eye. He saw her sitting there, head in the clouds, with her eyes still frozen with that sad look in them, although lately he couldn't tell if the sadness was from thoughts of her past or thoughts of her increasingly despondent present. He didn't often talk about her childhood with her, for fear that he would only depress her more than she already was. Alfred was going to speak up and change the subject to something a bit brighter when she beat him too it.

"Hey, Al..." She practically whispered, eyes still focused on some point outside the car window. "What's up?" Alfred responded cautiously. She was silent for a moment longer, but her mouth seemed to work for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to say. Eventually, she  simply let out a small sigh, shoulders slumping slightly and eyes drawing down to her lap. Then she said, "Have I ever told you about the... sexual abuse in my youth?" Alfred didn't know how to respond to that. He himself was too stunned at the revelation, his eyes going a fraction wider but trying to hide his shock as best he could. He cleared his throat after a minute. "I- ah, no.. no you haven't." He said quietly.

Marilyn didn't say anything for a long time. Alfred was quickly growing tired of the silence and tried to open up to her about it. "Mary... I'm sorry.. I never knew. Would you mind.. telling me what happened? Who did this to you?" He asked her softly. Marilyn turned then and gave him a small but soft smile, her eyes sadder. Alfred meanwhile had turned the car off the main road and onto a more quiet, lone pathway surrounded by trees so tall that they darkened the car a bit and they were given the impression of driving through a forest. The orphanage Alfred was heading too was a lovely private estate surrounded by sprawling green fields and a forest on one side of that openness. This path would lead them to a small parking lot, and then they would walk about a hundred yards until the path opened up to the field, and once you got there you were immediately greeted with the sight of a large white manor seated atop a hill and nothing but the sounds of playing children running around with toys around the estate's front yard (with adult supervision of course) and the chirping of birds singing their final songs before eventually preparing to leave for the winter coming up soon.

Marilyn shrugged lightly. "It's not really something I like to talk about much, or relive in my mind. It was with one of my many foster families, and nobody would believe me when I would cry about my foster father's abuse. I must've been only a few years old by then." She whispered the last sentence. "Oh how innocent I was then. I wish I could be that ignorant of the world again." She sighed. Alfred offered her a sympathetic look. "I understand that feeling. And again, I'm sorry about what happened. You should never have to go through something like that." 

Marilyn gave him that sad smile again. "Why're you apologizing? It's not your fault." She said simply. Alfred fell quiet. 

They pulled into the parking lot and stepped out of the car, straightening themselves up and stretching their legs for the walk over to the orphanage. As they began their walk in silence, Marilyn moved to walk closer to Alfred and buried her hands in her overcoat. They simply walked along the path for a while, listening to the branches of the trees above them rustle in the wind and the sounds of the wildlife in the forest around them. 

Then, Marilyn said, "Alfred, I just.. want to thank you." Alfred smiled at her. "For what?" "For caring. I feel like I don't have many people like that in my life right now." She stated truthfully, almost bitterly. Alfred's smile faltered. "Mary, don't say that. You have millions of people who love you and admire you all around the world. We all want what's best for you."

Marilyn's lips turned upwards in a false grin. "No, they love Marilyn Monroe. They idolize her. They don't know a damn thing about Norma Jean, and that's all I really am. That's all I want to be loved and respected for. But people only see her when they look at me. They see a blonde woman with a nice body and a kind smile for them. But it's all fake. It's all a mask, and as soon as that mask crumbles and falls one day, I'm going to be abandoned, just like every family I've ever had the misfortune to know." Alfred froze in place, surprising Marilyn. She faltered to a stop, taken aback slightly. "..Al?" She asked hesitantly. 

Alfred turned to her then, a look of dead seriousness on his face. "Mary, I want you to know something right now. I've known you for over ten years now, and I've seen all the sides of you. All the good, all the bad, and all the inbetween. And I have never seen a girl as smart and as kind and as beautiful as Norma Jean. That's always who you're going to be, no matter what mask you put on. And if people see behind the mask of Marilyn Monroe and they don't like what they see too, then screw them." 

Marilyn stared at him, dead quiet. Slowly, she began to smile. "Al, that has to be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." She said breathlessly, eyes glistening with what Alfred thought to be unshed tears. Alfred smiled and made to make a cheeky comment in response, but suddenly Marilyn was pushing herself against him, wrapping her arms around his next and kissing him fervently. Alfred froze, then slowly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her tighter against his form as he returned the kiss with equal gusto. 

The kiss was sweet, hot, almost magical and Alfred would swear he was seeing fireworks exploding behind his eyelids despite how cliche it sounded. He couldn't remember if he lost track of time then, but one of the many times he came up for air again later with a deep gasp, Marilyn was pushed up against a tree and Alfred was leaned against her heavily. Alfred suddenly noticed that Marilyn had lifted one of her legs to wrap around his waist, and in the heat of the moment, Alfred had begun to try to support it with a hand. Alfred didn't go back to kiss her again, but he kept their foreheads close and both were panting, lips slightly swollen although Marilyn's were less noticeable thanks to the lipstick.

Alfred slowly started to blush. "Ah... so.." he tried pathetically. Marilyn grinned up at him. "I... am guessing that this should stay quiet?" Alfred asked her. Marilyn said nothing, but nodded slowly.

Alfred released her and backed away, letting her stand upright again. He looked to the side awkwardly, where the house had just started to come into view. "Come, I'm sure those children would love to meet Marilyn Monroe, right?" Marilyn said softly, trying to change the subject. Alfred slowly nodded with a slight smile, and the two continued on. 

Alfred played with many of the children, let them sit in his lap on the porch as he watched Marilyn play games with them and talk to them about her childhood. He watched silently as she read them stories, ate a snack with them, told them jokes, and everything else a mother would do. She even had the bright adoring look in her eyes to match, which gave Alfred a very tender feeling deep inside of him as he thought of his own children, some of them still so young, and how he had always wanted them to have a mother. There was even a growing amount of talk across the country of adding two more states to their union, increasing their membership count to a grand and glorified 50. The thought gave Alfred immense joy. It had been such a long time since he'd had taken care of toddler states. The idea of having two more little babies to call his own gave him a feeling he could hardly express. He watched her as she wrote a very large check to donate to the orphanage, closer to $10,000 than the previous estimate she gave earlier. All he could think about was of Marilyn and of his own precious children.

_'She would be such a good mother..'_


	48. New Era

April 4th, 1958

 

The last time Alfred had a meeting with USSR, it ended with some black eyes and bloody lips and bruised faces. Therefore, it was easy to understand his reluctance for another one. And yet, at the request of President Truman, he dragged himself to a private conference room after the next world meeting and walked in to see USSR sitting there in military dress as always, boots clomping when he walked and medals jingling on his chest and a cold look in his eye that reminded Alfred of how USSR seemed to personify the opposite of his own life. The nation in which so much had gone wrong, and so much blood had spilled in his life, as opposed to his own history of the American Dream and survival and pride and patriotism. Unable and unwilling to greet this cold nation, Alfred simply threw himself into the office chair across from Ivan and glared at him.

Ivan of course responded with a mocking little smile and slight tilt of his head to the side. "Is America having a bad day?" 

"Fuck off."

Ivan chuckled, almost to himself, and Alfred was seized to strangle the bastard for the millionth time. And not just because of that failed condom plot a few years back that he was still bitter about. "I know your tyrants-" Ivan frowned just slightly at this. Good. "-are the ones pressuring talks between our countries. So what, are you finally wanting to surrender and admit that your government is poison and a threat to word peace?" 

Ivan glared then. "America would be one to talk about world peace,  _da?_ It is not like he went around spreading love and peace in Korea with his capitalist system now, did he?" Alfred bit back a snarl at the biting remark. Taking a breath, he hissed out, "What the hell do you want, commie?"

Ivan's childlike smile was back in place, expert and still, as if practiced a million times in a mirror in an attempt to get the look perfectly right to convey no feelings or emotions at all. "You have heard that we have made many advances in space with our esteemed Sputnik. With our satellite, we now can survey our enemy's moves from space." He said, almost serenely, an edge of finality in his voice. 

Alfred's vision nearly went red at the mere mention of that damnable satellite. After the announcements were broadcast around the world that the Russians had put a satellite in space, it sparked near hysteria amongst his people that the end was near, that the Russians could now be watching them at any given moment. Bomb shelters had been put into place at an ever more frequent pace, children in schools were practically doing nuclear attack drills every day, and even the most confident of politicians walked a bit more cautiously, nervously looking over their shoulders. This launch was what really started the craze of the space race, and there was a lot of talk of what NASA's plans were. How they would soon have their own satellites and how their ultimate goal was to get to the moon before the Russians could.

"Yes, I know very well." Alfred said stiffly. "So what?"

Ivan's smile grew almost imperceptibly. Alfred's fists clenched beneath the table. "With our superior space technology, it is only a matter of time before the Soviet forces overwhelm your inferior forces and technology. My ambassadors want me to inform you that if you denounce your broken capitalist system and join forces with the Sov-"

And that was the last thing Ivan could make out before Alfred's fist made brutal contact with his eye.

* * *

 

"Jesus Christ Alfred, again?" Marilyn said exasperatedly as Alfred sat on her couch and pressed a pack of ice against his swollen cheek. He didn't feel like responding in any way except to blink slowly and glare miserably at the carpeted floor. 

Eventually, she just sighed and Alfred thought he could see a slight smile grace her features in his peripheral vision. She scooted closer to him on the couch and brushed the hair on the side of his face away to examine a few other bruises on the side of his head. "What the hell happened here?" She asked incredulously.

"Ivan slammed my head against a filing cabinet a few times." Alfred muttered miserably. The fight this time was even worse. Before the buildings' security could hear the loud commotion inside the room and burst in to break up the fight, the two rivals had nearly destroyed the room and its furniture and equal damage was done to eachother's faces and arms and chest. Alfred's purple and blackened face ached against the ice as he felt the last few drops of blood drop from his lip onto a towel Marilyn gently pressed against it. He sported two back eyes, his left a bit worse than the right, and could only squint at Marilyn for the moment. After the fight had been broken up, his boss had been called. Obviously he was pissed when he found out Alfred blew a chance at negotiations (again), and after a thorough chewing out, he gave Alfred a few days to recover before being told to go back to Washington again for work. Not wanting England and Canada to see him like this, or his states for the same reason, he felt he could only turn to Marilyn for help. 

She quickly brought him into her home and sat him on her couch, where he sat right now. She explained how Miller was very busy lately. How he was working on a surprise for her ("I think it may be a script for a new picture!" She mentioned excitedly). Therefore, she didn't have too much to do anyways. "You have to get along with business partners, no matter how much you may hate them. Trust me, I understand how you feel." She said, a knowing look on her face. Alfred felt himself snort in agreement and smirk, but winced at the pain and got rid of it. 

"Speaking of business, how's it doing for you?" Alfred asked her quietly. Marilyn looked away in thought. "Well, I'd say it's doing alright. My production company's releases of Bus Stop for Fox and Prince and the Showgirl seemed to knock some sense into Fox. They offered me a new contract that gives me script, director, and cinematographer approval." She explained. Then she looked a bit sad. "I don't know about the future of my company. If we'll ever make more movies the way things are now." She said.

Alfred gently placed his hand on top of hers in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "It's alright. You're being taken more seriously now. That's the most important thing." He said. She smiled at him and nodded slowly. "I guess." 

Alfred went back to nursing his black eyes as Marilyn went silent. After a minute or so, Marilyn's eyes strayed over to the coffee table and noticed the stack of mail resting on top. She hadn't yet gone through the mail today. Having nothing else to do, she reached over and picked up the stack. She quickly read through and tossed aside the junk mail and placed some private letters in a different pile before she came across a larger package. She glanced at the label and realized it was from Fox. 

She quickly opened it up and scanned the letter and other business documents. She realized it was information about a movie, and Fox was offering her a starring role. Alfred glanced over at the sound of surprise that escaped her lips. "What is it?" 

"Fox wants me to accept a role in a new picture. They've even sent me the synopsis." She glanced through the documents and beamed. "It looks like Frank Sinatra will be involved too!" Alfred tried to smile. "That sounds amazing! What's it called?" "It's called.. uh.." Marilyn scanned the papers. "'Some Like It Hot.'" She finished. "It's a comedy apparently." Alfred hummed in appreciation. "Good. We could use some of that nowadays." He said bleakly.

Marilyn's smile suddenly faded a bit. "I.. I don't know about this." Alfred stared at her then. "What do you mean? You'll play a starring role, work with Sinatra, and be in a comedy. What's wrong with that?" He exclaimed. Marilyn frowned, frustration marking her face. "It's another dumb blonde roll!" She announced, infuriated. "...Oh." Alfred said lamely. 

Marilyn tossed the package back onto the coffee table and rested her head on one hand. "It's hopeless. I'm never going to be taken seriously." She sighed. "Don't be ridiculous. I think you should accept it. It sounds like a great opportunity nonetheless." Alfred soothed. "A role is a role, and it sounds like you've got yourself a good one." 

"Perhaps." Marilyn said simply. "I'm not sure. I'll talk to Arthur and Lee about it and see what they think." She finished. Alfred frowned, but said nothing.

Marilyn seemed a bit more closed off lately than usual. He knew she trusted him, but sometimes it just felt like she didn't know how to act around him or even what to say anymore.

He knew the air between them was still rather awkward after their last meeting at the orphanage. They hadn't discussed what happened between them, and Alfred didn't want to ask in fear that she would react negatively. But still the memories of her kiss and her touch ate at his mind. He remembered how wherever her hand gripped him would suddenly feel like a shock of lightning against his skin, and how the feeling of his hand lightly grazing her leg as she brought it up around his waist nearly made him dizzy. He knew he was attracted to her. He had been for years now and even was able to admit that fact to himself. But he felt restrained by propriety. By the mental and physical barrier of marriage separating him from her. By the constant reminder whenever he looked at her hand that she didn't belong to him. That she never would. And it made his heart ache in his chest. It was an ache more painful and more distinct and prominent than any ache that Ivan's fist could bring him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm officially back in action with this fic now! Sorry for the long wait but now I am back with a new chapter! I hope you enjoy it!!


	49. New Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. School has started up again and I've been very busy and tired. I'll continue updating but it might take a bit longer. Enjoy!

April 21st, 1958

 

A few days after Alfred's failed diplomacy with USSR, he went back to Washington DC like his boss suggested. President Eisenhower could be a strict guy, but after chewing Alfred out enough, they resumed their normal friendly rapport. He spent his days working on finding economic solutions to problems his country faced and advising the president on other issues. Especially on this new space race. The anxious air hung in the country like a thick fog. Nobody truly felt safe anymore. Alfred found himself subconsciously looking at the sky for long periods of time, as if he could see the Russian satellite from Earth. Even he needed an escape every once in a while. 

So when he wasn't working, he often chatted with First Lady Mamie in one of the drawing rooms or received guests, anything to keep his mind off the troubles he faced daily. He also kept in touch with Marilyn and frequently talked with her about whether or not to accept the role in Some Like It Hot. From what he'd heard of it, it was hilarious and highly anticipated. Even Miller encouraged her to accept when he first heard about it. But Marilyn had grumbled that the role would be another dumb blonde role and that Miller was thinking of money and not her. However, she did start to seriously consider the role once her acting coach Lee Strasberg urged her client.

"I might accept it, but that doesn't mean I won't hold a grudge against Sinatra for not showing up to lunch to discuss the film. I had really been looking forward to working with him and then he backs out!" She had said half jokingly and half bitterly. With that matter resolved, Alfred had resolved to take a bit of a break from all his paperwork and take a walk in the gardens. His aching hands and stressed shoulders were practically begging for one. 

He smiled a little to himself as he walked. He briefly considered a few times inviting Marilyn to the White House. He knew she'd love it here, but it would potentially cause problems. Firstly, Alfred would probably have to invite Miller too, since there shouldn't be a reason for her to randomly arrive alone. Secondly, it would be very hard to hide this megastar from the eyes of the press. No matter where she went, the press always seemed to find her. She had complained to him often of seeing men with cameras hiding in trees around her home, monitoring her every move. The third reason was that Marilyn still didn't really know the scope of his work. She knew he worked in DC and his job was tied to the government, but she didn't know how close to the government he actually was. The last reason, well... he knew he would never live it down if he came home with a girl to the President and First Lady. It would be like a teenager in high school introducing his first girlfriend to his parents, and he wasn't sure he could survive that. 

Even so, he did wonder what it would be like to be able to bring her here with him. He could show her around, let her see all the places that tourists usually didn't get to see. He could walk in the gardens with her. And even deep down, though he'd never admit it aloud, he would secretly hope that Mamie liked her, and they could get along and drink tea together and chat in the drawing room like he did with the First Lady. 

He shook such thoughts from his head. He knew it wouldn't be a good time to even consider inviting her here. Besides, the first family didn't know about his friendship with Marilyn, and he certainly didn't want Ivan finding out more than he needed to know about her either. Especially with that damn satellite of his.

With even more dreariness in his head and heart than before, Alfred sighed and started to make his way back indoors. There was a lot of work to be done still.

* * *

May 21st, 1958

 

In the month that followed, Alfred had learned of a few things regarding Marilyn. According to her, she had amended her contract so that she'd receive $100,000 plus 10% net profit for future pictures. It was a pleasant and lucrative interval for her and for Arthur to finish work on his gift to Marilyn. Apparently he really was working on a script for a film to be a gift to Marilyn. And just today, she'd excitedly told him about Arthur being granted a gold medal from the National Institute of Arts and Letters, the most significant literary award in the country. It was only awarded every 5 years, and was a major acknowledgement of him and his works. 

Alfred knew Marilyn was doing her best to keep her marriage with Miller strong. They hadn't had the best couple of months lately. They argued often, and the tension over fincances, Marilyn's rocky relationship with the studio, and the miscarriage were bearing down on them. At one point, after a particularly bad argument between them, Marilyn had tearfully called and asked Alfred if she could stay at his place until things calmed down between her husband and her. Feeling sorry for her, he quickly bought her a plane ticket to D.C. and she was here in days, as discreetly as possible. She told Arthur that she would be going to stay with a friend and that she'd be back in a few days. 

Luckily, Alfred had his own apartment in the city for when he wanted his own space and when he was in town temporarily. He brought her there, and she quickly found she liked it. "So this is where you live, huh?" She said, grinning. "I've known you forever and I've never gotten to see it!" Alfred smiled back at her. "You were never in town." He replied. The apartment wasn't luxurious and huge, but it was spacious and homely. The living room was mostly just lined with tall windows with a view over the city. Alfred could see the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial from here. The living room was connected to a clean kitchen, with only a marble counter separating them. There was a wooden spiral staircase twisting up to the second floor where there were two bedrooms: his bedroom and a guest room, and a bathroom.

Not far from his apartment building were plenty of stores for shopping and cafés and diners, so they'd have some things to do during her stay. After she settled in and rested from her flight, she put on her disguise, which included a black wig and sunglasses, and went out on the town with Alfred to sightsee and then eat dinner at a nice restaurant Alfred frequented. He knew most of the waiters and waitresses there, and they all grinned devilishly at him once they saw him walk in with a woman, presumably a date. "Ooh, does Alfie have a little date tonight?" One of the girls, Terra, teased him as she quickly led them to a table. "I thought I'd never see the day!" 

"Oh shush!" Alfred said, defensively but with a grin on his face. Terra looked Marilyn over and gave her a kinder smile. "What's your name, dear?" Marilyn smiled shyly and responded with, "Vivian." Terra smiled openly at her and pulled out her notepad and pen. "Well then, miss, what would you like to drink?"

After a few days, Marilyn regretfully left to go back to Connecticut and Arthur. Alfred hated to admit it, but her being gone ate at him. He had gotten used to her presence, and her being here greatly brightened his increasingly dreary days. He missed her terribly. It was around that time that he realized something about himself. That he didn't want to spend his life alone. He didn't want to have only himself living in this apartment. After she left, he didn't know how he'd managed the silence in the place before. He also realized that he wanted his kids to have a mother. He grew up without a mother or a father, and when he'd gotten his states, he made sure to be the best father he could be. But that only filled half the void. 

Alfred thinking about his states suddenly made him remember something else. "Oh God.." he whispered. There was supposed to be a referendum on whether Alaska and Hawaii should become US states soon. The thought of it made Alfred's heart race. Just imagine it! Two more babies, two more little children for him to nurture and raise and take care of and teach. He wondered what their eyes would look it. What hair they'd have. They'd be so beautiful. And they'd have the best brothers and sisters ever. But would they also grow up without a mommy? 

That question would keep Alfred awake at night for weeks. 

* * *

July 7, 1958

 

A few days after Alfred's birthday, he received more news. Marilyn decided to accept the role in Some Like It Hot, and was inviting Alfred to fly out to Los Angeles to see the filming. Alfred had agreed and worked to complete his paperwork so he'd have no distractions and could relax. 

He had gone back to the White House a few weeks ago, unable to stand the quiet of his apartment. After completing his work, he carried it and a few other important files towards the Oval Office. He walked into the room. "Mr. President, sir! I've finished my work and just wanted to- oh!" He said, surprised and nearly dropping his files. Inside the office, Eisenhower and his wife were seated on the couch and talking. "I.. I'm sorry sir. Am I interrupting?" Mamie quickly jumped up and smiled, taking his arm and guiding him towards the couch. "Nonsense, sweetheart!" She said kindly, sitting down once more. "You weren't interrupting at all. Do you have something to say?" She asked. 

Alfred coughed and shifted from where he sat. "Yes. I finished my paperwork, sir." He said to the president, holding up the file. Eisenhower's eyes widened slightly. "Finished?" He asked, taking the file Alfred handed over. "You finished it early." He stated, confused. Mamie smiled mischievously. "Well, how about that! What's going on to cause this I wonder? Maybe it's a girl!" She joked, but Alfred's responding laugh was half hearted at best. 

"I'm going to fly out to Los Angeles for a bit. Maybe get some sun. Relax." He said. The president studied Alfred for a bit before nodding. "Alright, I guess that'll be okay. Try not to be gone too long, though." They all stood up and Eisenhower gave Alfred a fond clap on the shoulder. "I'll keep you updated." Alfred smiled and nodded. "Of course, sir." Mamie quickly swooped in and pulled Alfred into a hug, and Alfred gently hugged her back. 

"Stay safe, darling! No drinking or smoking. It's not good for you and that city can be absolutely mad." She ordered protectively. Alfred smiled at her and chuckled. "Of course, Mamie." 

Not long after that, he hurriedly packed his bags and made his way to the airport to catch a flight bound for the opposite coast.


	50. Lights, Camera, Inaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol okay so I’m back!   
> I know I’ve been gone a long time and I’m sorry! I’ve been very busy will school lately and midterms are coming up. I’ve had this draft in here for a long time and just couldn’t work on it. But this one is finally here! I will try to make chapters longer and faster from here, but due to the time since the last update I felt it better that you all at least get something!
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy! Things will start really getting interesting after the filming for this movie ends!! I know I’ve said that a lot in much earlier chapters but now the exciting parts are actually starting to approach lol.

 

August 12th, 1958

 

The sun in Los Angeles never failed to blaze when Alfred didn’t need it. He had gotten used to the heat over time, but it always got annoying when you had to be outside for a long period of time. Luckily for Alfred, most of the film production was taking place indoors for the moment. However, the reprieve from the blazing sunlight didn’t offer any solace to the film crew, or the actors. 

“Just one more try! I swear I’ll get it right this time!” Marilyn called out frustratedly. There were a few groans from workers in the back as they stopped filming and prepared to do yet another retake. Alfred had lost count around retake number 37. He frowned at her, confused at what was going on. Who took 37 takes just to say, “It’s me, Sugar”? The director called for a break, clearly sounding like he needed to go calm himself down before he started banging his head against a wall. Alfred quickly rushed over to her as she scrambled off set and over to her makeup station. Lee Strasberg was already by her side as well, trying to console the frazzled actress.

“Mary, what’s going on?” Alfred asked, flabbergasted. He held up the bottle of water for her to drink out of, and she took it thankfully. The actress looked tired and worn out. She had frequently been hours late to work, and when she did bother to show up, she could hardly remember any line at all. Alfred knew that this wasn’t a new trend, and she had become infamous for her tardiness and poor line remembrance on most of her previous projects. Because she suffered from bad night terrors and insomnia, and relied on prescribed sleeping pills to help her get her much needed rest. But when she woke up in the morning, she was extremely drowsy. So, wake up pills had also been prescribed for her. On top of that, she had a tendency to take the pills with alcohol. This problem had been extremely worrying to Alfred. He knew that a part of the cause of her behavior must’ve been the miscarriages she suffered through. Perhaps it was even a cause of the miscarriages. 

Still it was not healthy for her and Alfred worried about her mental state constantly. She confessed a few times a while back that her mother had been taken to a mental hospital, and that she was terrified that one day she would have the same fate herself. Alfred tried to push that horrible thought from his mind, telling himself that she was fine. She was just depressed. Soon, she’ll be feeling better. She’ll be back to her happy old self. And until that happened, he could just pretend not to notice her smile that didn’t seem to be as bright as usual.

* * *

 

September 3rd, 1958

 

The filming of Some Like It Hot continued to drag on, the filming days seemingly becoming all blurred together as the days passed that Alfred hardly could believe it when it was already September. And yet it was here. The film had taken multiple days of filming, with many more shots still to film. It was falling behind schedule and the costs for the delays was skyrocketing, making the film much more expensive to shoot. All of the actors tried to put their best face forward and be optimistic, but the constant agitation from the director, Billy Wilder, loomed over the set. The film’s leading actress wasn’t handling things much better either. 

Marilyn looked frazzled as she ran through her lines, trying to commit them to memory. She and Alfred were in the lounging room on set, and the poor woman was pacing back and forth, her costume only partially completed and her hair and make up not done yet, mumbling lines and phrases to herself as she repeated the words on her paper. Alfred sighed. “I don’t understand, Mary. What’s going on? I get that you’ve had problems remembering lines before and problems with showing up on time, but this? It took you over 40 retakes to say the words, ‘it’s me, Sugar!’” 

Marilyn gave him an annoyed look. “I’m sorry, okay?” She hissed, frustrated. “My mind has just been... all over the place recently. I think it’s my pills. My damn insomnia. Ruining everything..” She murmured to herself, glancing down again at her script in a desperate bid to prevent tears of frustration. Alfred gave her a pitying look. “Are you sure it’s just the pills that are messing with your mind?” He slowly enunciated. He knew after a beat that she got his meaning. Marilyn was silent for a long time. She stood, her back facing Alfred, and she was as still as a statue. “I...” She tried to say, but to no avail. 

“Mary,” Alfred said gently. “You need to talk to people. Tell me. Tell Arthur. Tell Lee. Tell Greenwood, tell anybody! Please, this is not healthy!” He said. Marilyn was silent for another few moments before she took a shuddering breath and sat down on the couch next to Alfred. She nearly slumped into the seat, but refrained. “I just... it’s so hard. It’s been eating at me constantly.” She said quietly. “My.. child. The miscarriage. Both of them. Ever since I lost this most recent one, I just.. Ive been wondering. It’s got to be my fault. I’m a fucking failure. I’m a failure to myself. To my husband, which is fitting since we’re in a doomed marriage, and to everybody else.” She muttered. 

Then, without preamble, she suddenly burst into tears. “It’s all my fault..” she cried. “I’m never gonna be a mother. God doesn’t want me to have babies.” Alfred wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Mary.. you couldn’t be further from the truth.” Alfred said to her, guilt filling him. “You are not a failure. You are Marilyn Monroe. You are the most famous actress in the world. And you will become a mother someday. I have no doubt of that.” He murmured. He gently rubbed a hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture, and she slowly leaned into him and cried against his shoulder. “They all hate me. They glare at me when I walk by.” She whispered. “They are jealous of you.” He whispered back, pulling away just enough to look into her eyes. “You are a beautiful, talented, amazing star. You have what they can only dream of having.” He said. 

Marilyn stared into his eyes. Her eyes were red-rimmed and brimming with tears, and the light blue irises looked so sad, Alfred was reminded of himself. The sadness in her eyes seemed so deep and traumatizing, it felt like a sadness only a nation with a lifespan long enough to see all the world’s travesties should have. Alfred was gazing back at her eyes and wondering over this when suddenly her eyes disappeared behind eyelids and Marilyn was leaning in close, so close that their lips were only a hairs distance apart. “Tell me, Alfred Jones. Do you speak to all pretty girls in such a way?” She whispered. “Only the blonde ones.” Alfred quipped back with an equally soft voice. Marilyn let out a laugh, the first genuinely happy sound Alfred had heard from her in days, and she closed the distance between them and kissed him with gentle urgency. 

She gently slid her arms around his neck and let Alfred tentatively wrap his arms around her waist. Alfred felt himself enter that blissful state of mind that he always seemed to whenever he kissed her. He knew they shouldn’t be doing this. He knew it was wrong. And yet the feeling of her lips and the feeling of her pressed so tightly against him was so toxic, it felt like it was impossible for this to be wrong when it felt so right. 

They pulled away, both breathing heavy. “Why did I ever leave you?” She laughed, obviously in a joking manner. Even though he knew she was just teasing, it still made his heart flutter to hear those words, despite bringing back painful reminders of their brief relationship and her seeing someone else. He knew that it had been the wrong time to try to start a relationship with her. It had been during a hard time for her, when she was vulnerable and anybody’s condolences and comfort would’ve made Marilyn attached to them. A divorce was a bad time, and he should’ve waited until she became ready for a true relationship again. 

Alfred smiled lightly in response, and made to move forward to initiate another kiss when a knock was heard at the door. They quickly jumped apart and Marilyn stood to answer it. She opened the door to see an assistant. “Miss Monroe, there is a visitor here.” The man said. “He says he’s Arthur Miller, your husband.” 


	51. PART TWO: Forward Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait with this one!  
> But with this chapter I plan to start going down a much more dramatic plot line that will begin to lead up and up until we start a new point later that will be reaching the climax of the story. So starting from here you will start to see much more drama and hints. So far we’ve just been traveling along a timeline of Marilyn’s life. Now my own story elements will start to get involved!  
> This chapter will therefore start off Part Two of this story, with about three parts in total. Obviously part One is the slow slow buildup and the next parts should be shorter. Part Two should only be a few chapters long but many times more dramatic. This will include those new arrivals I’ve mentioned a lot! And another major element of parts 2-3 has been foreshadowed here! This is the first time I’ve mentioned it in the story. Do you know what that subject is?

September 5th, 1958

 

As much as Miller’s presence was disliked by Alfred, he had to grudgingly admit that Marilyn did seem more put together and prepared after he arrived. She started slowly improving on her lines and arrived on time for the most part. But the damage had already been done in the minds of the director and some of the other actors. Alfred tried to let the much improved mood on set reach him too, although ever since Miller arrived he had to keep his distance from Marilyn more. Still, he continued to visit her and chat in between takes and on breaks. Sometimes Miller would be there, but he would be furiously writing down things on a notepad in the corner of Marilyn’s room and hardly paying attention to their conversation. 

Today, he was talking to Marilyn during one of the breaks when Marilyn noticed his glance over to Miller and gave him a grin. She leaned in towards him and whispered, “he won’t tell me what he’s up to, but I think it’s something big. I think he’s almost done with it.” Alfred studied the playwright for a moment, before turning his focus back to the star once more. “Maybe. Maybe he’s just writing another play.” She shrugged and then seemed to remember something important. She grabbed Alfred’s arm and turned to Miller to shout, “I’ll be right back, sweetie!” Before urging Alfred out of the room and leading him into an empty hallway around the corner to her room.

Alfred stared at her, baffled. “Mary, what’s wrong? You dragged me out of there like it was filled with poisonous gas.” Marilyn smiled excitedly at him. “I just realized that I haven’t told you something important yet. Only a few people know so far, so don’t go talking about it with everybody.” She said, looking both ways to ensure nobody would hear her. Alfred gulped, suddenly nervous. “Alright... what is it?” He asked her.

Marilyn fidgeted. “It’s part of the reason Miller came here so suddenly.” She explained. Alfred stayed silent. After a beat of silence, Marilyn quickly said in a quiet voice, “I’m pregnant.” Alfred’s eyes widened, and for a moment he had no words to say. Marilyn noticed this, and looked away. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but I want to be more cautious this time. It hasn’t exactly...” She trailed off, a pained  look filling her eyes. She gently shut them and pushed onwards, “ended well. And if this one doesn’t end well either, at least we can keep quiet about it and not many people will have known.” She finished, opening her eyes again to look at him.

Alfred was hit with a pang of guilt and remorse for her. “Oh, Mary. I’m sure that this time it’ll all be okay. You just have to take it a bit easier when you’re not filming. And filming is almost completed now anyways, so you can fly home and rest.” He said softly.

Marilyn gave him a grateful look and hugged him tightly. Alfred eagerly wrapped his arms around her. “Congratulations, Mary. I’m so happy for you, you know that? And I’m always going to be there to support you.” He felt her tighten her hold on him a bit more. “Thank you,” She whispered. “You don’t know how much that means to me. How much I needed that.” With her head pressed against his shoulder, Alfred didn’t have to plaster on his fake, painful grin this time. 

* * *

 

November 6, 1958

 

Filming continued to drag on after Marilyn’s quiet announcement. Despite Alfred’s predictions, filming continued past his prediction of a few more days. The crew mostly had to make up for Marilyn’s lateness, but finally filming was now wrapped up. Director Billy Wilders had decided to throw a party for all the actors who worked on the film. Conveniently, however, the main star was left off the invitees list. Marilyn was devastated by the cold treatment, terrified that everybody hated her for all the problems she caused on set. 

Alfred was quick to leave the party when he realized his friend wasn’t invited, and instead drove to Marilyn’s temporary residence during filming. There he found Marilyn with red rimmed eyes, being comforted by her husband. He made to leave after checking on her, but Marilyn was quick to jump from her seat on the couch as he turned. “W-Wait!” She cried, walking over to place her hands on his arms. “Please, stay. I-“ she stopped herself, taking a quick glance over to her husband. “We enjoy your presence here. Besides, at least I know not everybody hates me.” She said bitterly.

Alfred frowned. “Nobody hates you, Mary. Billy Wilders is just being his usual stuck up self, that’s all.” He said. Marilyn pulled him over to the couch. “Well, as long as you’re here you might as well stay. Talk to me. About... I don’t know, politics?” She said. Miller stood with a sigh. “You all talk. I’m gonna go make sure our suitcases are packed and we have everything we need so we can leave on time tomorrow.” He said before leaving the room.

The two sat in silence for a while after Miller left. Then Alfred cleared his throat. “Politics huh? Alright then.” He said, thinking about his boss and First Lady. “What do you think of that candidate John F. Kennedy? He seems very popular.” Marilyn asked him, laying back against the couch. Alfred immediately understood what she meant by ‘popular.’ It was hard not to fall for the man’s charisma and humor. His good looks and graceful wife Jackie merely added even more gasoline to the flames.

”Yeah, I agree.” Alfred nodded. “But there is one problem, though.” He said, grinning suddenly. Marilyn quirked an eyebrow. “Which is?” Alfred struggled to contain his grin even more. “People are complaining about his Catholicism. They say he’s gonna turn the White House into the Vatican.” Marilyn grinned. “Well at least we know Washington will be safe from the USSR then.” 

The two laughed for a while, repeating as many Catholic jokes as they could possibly think of. Then he remembered something else. “Oh! Did you hear about the statehood referendums in Alaska and Hawaii?” He asked her. “Not really. I’ve been too busy working to pay too much attention to the news lately. I just know the basics about the situation.” She explained. Alfred fidgeted in his seat. “Well, I believe we’re about to get two more states soon! Perhaps as soon as January next year. Now there will be a perfect fifty states in our country.” He said dreamily. His building excitement over the events had culminated up to these referendums. 

In his mind he was already planning everything out. He had started work on their nurseries at his mansion estate where he lived and all of his states grew up and lived while visiting him. They all had their own rooms, and Alfred had to have two more constructed for the new arrivals coming. He was now thinking about room themes, which clothes and toys to buy for them, and other baby necessities. It has been a while since he got a new state. He’d have to go through the whole house and make everything childproof again. That wouldn’t be too fun. But at least he’d have two new states to make up for it. 

Marilyn’s voice cut through his fantasizing. “Yes, it would be rather historic, wouldn’t it?” 

Alfred nodded excitedly. “Well, anyways, now that filming has wrapped up, what are your plans?” Marilyn sighed. “I’m not sure. Miller is almost done with his surprise he’s working on. If it is a picture like I think it is, perhaps I could work on filming that. But for now I just want to relax after filming my most recent disastrous picture.” She muttered. Alfred scoffed. “It’s not disastrous. I’ve watched some parts of the final version, and so have a few others. They all say it’s really good, and I agree. I really think you’ve got yourself a hit here Marilyn.” He assured her. 

“I hope so.” Marilyn said simply, looking away. There was a moment of silence that stretched between them before Alfred decided to act. “You know, I brought you a present.” He said with a small smile. Marilyn looked up at him curiously. “A present?” Alfred nodded and got up from the couch. He went to the front door and opened it. “Where are you going?” She asked him when she saw him step out. He reached off to the side of the doorway, a place that wouldn’t be seen by anybody opening the door to him. 

Alfred grabbed the present and walked back into the house, shutting the door against the cool air. “I think this will really help you cheer up,” he said mischievously. Marilyn couldn’t help but smile. He sat back down next to her and placed the box in her lap. It was a simple brown cardboard box, similar to something you’d buy at a bakery or grocery store. To open it, all you’d have to do is lift the lid back. Slowly doing so, Marilyn gasped. “Wait... is this..?” She asked.

“Some cake from Wilders’ party?” Alfred finished with a smirk. “I had to run from security to sneak away with the rest of it.” He said with a laugh. Marilyn stared at him for a long time. Alfred grinned back. Marily grinned. They grinned at each other. Then they burst out laughing. Marilyn nearly dropped the cake in her laughter, but managed to set it down on the coffee table first. 

“No way. No way you did that. Please tell me you’re joking!” She laughed, wiping away a few tears. “No, it’s true. I had to take it while nobody was looking, and ran while security chased me through the building. Managed to lose them after a few streets, get to my car, and go find a pretty box to put it in. Maybe that’ll teach Wilders that it’s not a real party unless all the actors are invited.” Alfred finished, a self satisfied look on his face. 

Marilyn beamed at him then. “You did all that for me?” She asked softly. Alfred flushed, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. “W-Well, you’re my friend, Mary. Of course I did.” Marilyn smiled even more, and took his jaw in her fingers, turning his face to look at hers. “You are an absolute darling. A kind, sweet darling.” She gushed. Then she turned his face and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Alfred flushed even more. “Thank you.” She said, leaning back. Alfred could only force out a meek “you’re welcome.” Marilyn smiled, getting up from the couch. “I’m gonna get some forks. I’ll be right-“

”Forks?” Alfred asked suddenly. Marilyn stared at him before getting his meaning. “Well yes. I can’t eat all this cake myself you know.” She replied with a flirtatious smile before walking off. Alfred gulped, hoping the red in his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. 

He really needed to stop getting so flustered around her. He tried to fight it for so long. He tried to fight down what he knew he felt for her, but it always seemed to fail spectacularly. Every time she smiled at him, it was like a cannonball to his fortress walls. Who knew such a small, pretty girl could throw such a strong punch. 

He hardly noticed when Marilyn came back and forced a fork into his fingers. As they slowly ate the cake together, Alfred was suddenly filled with the desire to touch her hand, or run his fingers through her famous blonde curls. Anything to allow him to get a touch of her now that he’d felt her soft lips on his cheek. 

 _‘Pretty ironic, huh?’_ He thought drily to himself. The most famous sex symbol in the country, the girl that half the country dreamt of holding or loving, is sitting a few inches from you and you can’t do a thing. 

 _‘One day’_ his mind told him.  _‘One day it will all be different. One day she will be yours to love. No matter what it takes’_ Alfred quickly banished the thought. It wasn’t right to think that. Not when that would involve great pain for Marilyn in exchange for his satisfaction. He would continue to only be the supportive friend for her and that was it. 

However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quell the thoughts in the farthest reaches in his mind. The thoughts that secretly hoped things would be different one day. 

One day. When she was his and he equally hers. 


End file.
